


Vis Legis

by corvusam



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bad Touch Chancellor Ardyn Izunia, Blackmail, Bootcamp AU, Caning, Drowning, Heavy Angst, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Abuse, Solitary Confinement, Torture, Water Torture, Whipping, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-03-26 15:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 90,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvusam/pseuds/corvusam
Summary: A fallen kingdom, Lucis is required to send their rebellious youth to correctional behaviour camps in order to follow through with Niflheim customs. King Regis, now dethroned, is forced to let Noctis be taken after he speaks out against the Emperor. The young prince finds himself victim to torture, unfairness and predatorial wardens in his attempts to survive and escape.





	1. The Sentence

**Author's Note:**

> if you like noctis suffering a lot for no reason, then you have come to the right place. i can't believe i'm actually posting this, but i hope everyone likes a good ol fucked up bootcamp au. heed the warning tags.

 

_M.E. 751_

Noctis clutched the book he was reading. His fingers trembled over the images of empty cells, torture devices and rows of boys just like him in complete misery.

His father had said it was good to know as much as possible about the enemy. At first, Noctis agreed. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, as the saying went. However, after lying eyes on the book, he wasn’t so sure he had ever needed to know this kind of information.

Niflheim had always been infamous for its ‘techniques’ in raising its youth. On the rare occasion when they had been in the Crown City, Noctis had kept his distance. The blank look in their eyes was unsettling. It was either that, or they were frothing, antisocial soldiers. Neither appealed to him. Even at a young age, Noctis knew that something terrible had to have happened to them to induce such a state. It was the only explanation. What exactly, the prince could never guess, and he had never wanted to.

He was sure this book only showed a fraction of what really went on. Correctional Behavioural Facilities were in every major part of the Niflheim empire. What Iedolas had called the correct way to bring up offspring, other nations had called barbaric. Reading the book, Noctis could see why.

The solitary confinements. The deprivation cells. The caning, the beating, the absolute _horrors_ they would inflict. He had to turn his eye away from that particular page and turn over. Such information had only been found out from traumatised Niflheim refugees.

He had been so caught up in his discomfort that he did not notice his father enter his room. Noctis snapped the book shut and whirled around on his bed.

Regis saw the cover regardless. He frowned, eyebrows furrowing. “Ah. You’re reading that one.”

“Um, I was just curious.”

“Do not let it worry you, son,” Regis said gently as he made his way over. Noctis watched him as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Niflheim, as dangerous as they may be, will not win this war. Their monstrous tactics will be banned soon enough.”

“You sound so sure,” Noctis whispered as he lowered his head. When he was ten, the empire was not a concern. Now, at the age of 16, Noctis had to say otherwise. The entire world, except for their city, belonged to Niflheim, or was in the process of belonging to it.

“The Gods are on our side, Noctis.”

Were they? Asides from ownership of the Crystal, Lucis hadn’t had much in the terms of luck. Still, upon seeing his father’s tired face, he forced a smile. “Yeah. They are.”

* * *

 

_M.E. 756_

“Noctis Lucis Caelum, I hereby sentence you to a year in the Vis Legis Correctional Facility camp for speaking against Emperor Iedolas.”

He looked down silently.

It was a small courtroom. When he had first been given his trial date, Noctis had expected there to be hundreds of people attending, all desperate to see the prince of Lucis receiving his sentence. Instead, there had only been a handful. Important people, no doubt, but nowhere near the amount originally expected. It was probably better this way.

Unwilling to meet his father’s eye, Noctis said nothing as he was handcuffed and taken down from the stand. The courtroom muttered as they watched him being roughly directed out of the door. Regis, sitting in the public viewing section, held a hand to his face to hide his misery. Being powerless to stop his son from being taken away was almost too much for him to bear. He was once king. Why, _why_ did they have to end up in this position?

The guards, unruly Niflheim officers, made sure not to be too gentle. Noctis grit his teeth as they pushed him out of the courthouse and into the awaiting ship. It wasn’t anything impressive. Now that his status meant nothing, he no longer had the privilege of luxurious transportation.

At least he was the only one here. Noctis had heard the stories of Lucian teenagers being crammed into buses with no thought whatsoever given to their comfort. He once had thought he had been safe, yet he had been wrong. So very wrong.

Despite their lives falling apart, it had been a fairly uneventful day last month. Both Noctis and Regis had been kicked from their original home, now living in their new assigned estate within the Niflheim capital. They had lost their castle and the entire city of Insomnia. That would have been one thing if it hadn’t been for the guards.

Noctis had rarely left his new apartment. It was small and cramped, and it reminded him of how far he’d fallen, but it was _safe_. It was just him and his father. On one of the occasions he was forced to leave, two of the guards that had been assigned to keep a permanent watch on them had stepped out of line.

“You actually thought you’d win?” one taunted, sneering at Noctis at the apartment complex entrance.

“Fuckin’ Lucians, always so overconfident,” another said.

“Get lost,” Noctis had muttered. He’d been forbidden to speak in a hostile tone to any citizen of the Niflheim empire, though he didn’t care.

The guard pushed themselves forwards so that they barred the way in. “Watch your fucking mouth. Your daddy’s not here to protect you today, you lowlife child.”

He hadn’t meant to say anything else. Just telling them to get lost had been overcrossing his boundaries, but at the mention of his dethroned father, Noctis hadn’t even realised the words had left his mouth until it was too late.

“Yet I’m still above that bastard you call an Emperor.”

The guards, furious, had grabbed him and marched him off to be reported. Regis barely had any time to react before his son was being charged with treason in a jail cell. Noctis had sadly watched him try everything. He had began with frantic pleading so out of character for a regal man such as himself, and then using what little money he had left to find a suitable lawyer. That only served to prove how much being a Lucian was worth in the land of Niflheim. The judge could not be swayed. It wasn’t a large trial, not worthy of an actual prison sentence, though it still was enough to have Noctis detained and packed up like a dog on the way to the pound.

The fact that the guards had recited the conversation word for word hadn’t helped. Noctis, intimidated into silence, struggled to find any words to defend himself. What could he say? Lucis had lost their war.

He felt humiliated. The prince kept his eyes glued to the floor for the entirety of the airship ride. They had been so close, so _close_ to taking back what was theirs. It had happened so fast. Noctis was stunned the day their defeat had been announced. Even more quickly, their titles were stripped and their city overthrown. Regis had looked like he’d aged ten years.

He could hear the guards on the ship whispering. He couldn’t tell if it was them mocking him or discussing how the prince of Lucis ended up in this situation. Perhaps even _they_ were shocked that he was not immune to the empire’s rigid laws.

Noctis had a fair idea what these camps were meant to be like thanks to the book he had read four years ago. He’d further heard the stories back when the war was waging, of how Niflheim would subject their adolescents to rigorous punishments if they did not adhere to the Emperor. His father had done his best to to cover up the more graphic details, though some slipped through. He shuddered as his imagination ran wild.

“We’ve arrived, prince,” a guard announced. He gave Noctis a nudge when he didn’t get up immediately. He hadn’t felt the ship land as he was daydreaming.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised at how short the journey was. They had been living in the centre of Niflheim, after all. A camp wouldn’t be far away.

Still not removing the cuffs, the guards kicked Noctis out of the ship as the door slid open. He almost fell over. Noctis held in a curse he would have normally directed their way, if not given the circumstances. He did not want an extended sentence. A year without seeing his father already seemed long enough.

“You’re in luck, Your Highness,” a guard whispered in his ear as he was hauled to his feet, “Vis Legis has a reputation for being the best in the empire. You’ll end up as a fine Niflheim citizen before you know it.”

Scum. Noctis held tightly to the thought that they’d never turn him into one of them no _matter_ what they did. Despite the enormous building looming over him, he kept vigilant. They couldn’t break him.

As they dragged him towards the camp’s reception area, Noctis caught sight of the tall wire mesh fences. Barbed wire bordered the top. As if anyone could even attempt to climb them in the first place. There were various other buildings scattered around, most of the facility being surrounded by dense forests or military bases. Noctis couldn’t get much of a chance to study them before they were inside.

If he hadn’t been told this was a camp, he would have assumed it was an actual prison. The walls were featureless and the floor was solid metal. The atmosphere almost _crushed_ him, it was so oppressive. Gods bless him if he was to withstand this until M.E. 757.

“Have the Chancellor sent over,” a guard said.

“The Chancellor himself is giving the prince a tour?” someone replied.

“He insisted.”

Noctis rolled his eyes as they spoke as if he wasn’t present. Now what, he was going to have to put up with a cocky Chancellor showing him around?

He felt a guard fiddle with his cuffs, feeling relief as they slipped off his hands. A bundle of clothing was then shoved at him.

“Change,” barked the guard.

It was a white uniform, with the Niflheim emblem embroidered on the back and a number printed on the front. This was the _last_ thing Noctis wanted to put on.

“Forget it,” he muttered, massaging his wrists.

The man leaned in so close that their foreheads almost touched. His breath was hot on Noctis’ face as he snarled, “Put it on or suffer the consequences, you royal brat.”

Not given much of a choice, Noctis reluctantly stepped inside the storage cupboard and stripped. The white on his body was blinding compared to the black he was so used to wearing. The fabric scratched at his skin and he had to refrain from yanking at the collar strangling him. He had thought he was done with stupid compulsory uniforms once he finished school.

Satisfied, the guard then brought Noctis over to a computer behind the receptionist’s desk. He stared blankly at the complex system that flashed on the screen.

“You’ve already been registered in the system, but there’s one more thing that needs to be done before it’s complete.”

A metal bracelet was snapped onto his wrist. Noctis gawked at it in surprise.

“What the—”

“There is a point system in Vis Legis,” the guard explained as Noctis scrabbled at his arm. “They will be tracked on your bracelet. The Imperial Chancellor will tell you more.”

It was no use. The metal ringlet was secured electronically. Noctis huffed. First a stark white uniform, and now a bracelet that wouldn’t come off. What other nonsense was he going to be subjected to?

Thankfully, that looked to be the end of the guards harassing him. They remained quiet until another man flounced into the room. Noctis turned, glaring, to see a tall man looking nothing like he was expecting.

“Ah, this must be His Royal Highness!” he announced loudly. Noctis was taken aback by his cheerful attitude, already too used to the stoic attitude of everyone else in this cursed building. The Chancellor, he assumed, was smiling warmly at him. He was dressed in a full black and grey military uniform, strangely not in the traditional Niflheim white. He bowed at the waist. “I am Chancellor Ardyn Izunia, Prince Noctis. A pleasure.”

Noct, again, said nothing. He wasn’t going to be formal and pleasant because this man was pretending to be. However, it seemed only to amuse the Chancellor as Noctis scowled.

“Well, shall I give you the grand tour?” Ardyn said. He put a hand on Noctis' shoulder and gently guided him from the reception area.

The man’s touch made him shiver. Noctis resisted the urge to shake him off in case it made him angry, but if he was going to keep _touching_ him, then he wouldn’t hold back. He looked at him through the corner of his eye.

Ardyn was not that old for a Chancellor. Probably in his mid-thirties, he carried a confident aura that might have been charming if Noctis wasn’t his prisoner. Surprisingly, he’d never met him before, but he was sure his father must have. He had not said anything about him.

“I must say, I’m quite surprised to see you here, Your Highness.”

“Why’s that?” Noctis grumbled.

Ardyn looked smug. “I’ve heard you were such a well-behaved lad. I never expected you to be so foul-mouthed.” He must be referring to the trial. Had he been there? Noctis couldn’t remember.

“Did you _really_ expect anything different from me?”

The Chancellor stopped for a moment. The two locked eyes, Noctis glaring while Ardyn gazed softly. He’d known this man for two seconds and he already loathed him. How could Ardyn expect Noctis to be _well-behaved_ when Niflheim had taken everything from him? Now that he was part of one of their correctional behavioural facilities (or more suitably, glorified torture chambers), surely Ardyn couldn’t expect him to be happy about it.

Eventually, Ardyn chuckled and continued his pace. “We’ll see how things progress, shall we?”

The building never ceased to look like a jailhouse. Past the reception area was a string of long, blank corridors that seemingly lead to nowhere. Noctis had no idea how he was supposed to remember where he was going seeing as how they all looked so similar. Still, Ardyn expertly navigated every hallway like it was the back of his hand.

They came to a row of offices. Ardyn then stopped and turned to face Noctis fully.

“Now, then. At Vis Legis, we have a very strict behavioural system. That lovely little device on your wrist documents all the points you’ve built up. Every time you disobey or break a rule, a point shall be added to it.”

Noctis glanced at it. It didn’t look like anything special. It was just a metal strap, if anything, but if Noctis looked closer, he could see some kind of imprint. There was a tiny black screen, made of the thick glass that only old phones used.

“Once you receive five points, you report to me, at this office,” Ardyn explained as he rapped his knuckles on a nearby door.

“What happens then?”

“You’ll see.”

He didn’t like the tone in Ardyn’s words, but Noctis allowed him to continue. Or rather, he had no choice except to allow him to continue. The man definitely liked the sound of his own voice. As he spoke, he waved his arms in wild gestures, spending most of the conversation speaking about the building’s history rather than its purpose. Not that Noctis couldn’t figure _that_ part out.

There was a large cafeteria, which was currently deserted due to the time of day. Ardyn skipped over most of the main rooms, stating that Noctis would find his way in his own time. While looking very much like a prison, it was structured exactly like a school. Ardyn briefly pointed out the rows and rows of corridors containing classrooms and laboratories. Noctis would have had a flashback to high school if the place wasn’t covered floor to ceiling with grungy metal plates.

They eventually came to rest in another wing entirely. Noctis looked around. The dormitories.

At least, he figured they were. There were no living parlours, no kitchens, no furniture, nothing except lines of steel doors. He guessed his cell was behind one of them.

“You will be staying with your roommate here for the entirety of your sentence,” Ardyn said. “After eight o’clock at night, you will not be permitted to leave your room.”

“What if there’s an emergency?”

“Then you press the button for medical assistance. Though I should warn you, Your Highness, do not be the boy who cries wolf.” Ardyn leant his face in uncomfortably close. “I guarantee that you will _not_ like what happens.”

“Are there any other rules I should know about?” Noctis said through clenched teeth.

“Most you’ll learn during your time here, though be aware of your schedule. Your roommate will share it with you. Arrive late to your lessons, and the consequences will be severe. The same goes for respecting your superiors. Any insolence will not be tolerated at my facility. However, should you behave and work hard, then you should be fine.”

Keeping his glare steady, Noctis held eye contact with the man for several gruelling seconds before Ardyn leant back, his ‘friendly’ smile returning. He pulled a keycard from his pocket and skimmed his eyes along the corridor until he came to a door numbered 206. Swiping the keycard along the machine in the wall, the iron door swung open and Ardyn nudged Noctis inside.

“You will be awake at eight tomorrow for breakfast. Classes are at nine. Do enjoy your stay, Noct.”

The prince shuddered. As much as he wanted to yell at Ardyn for shortening his name like that, he was powerless and he knew it. He turned around, ready to spend the next year of his life in his new room.

It was tiny. Only enough space for two beds and two desks, it was pretty much a square cube of blankness. Groaning loudly now that he had some privacy, Noctis dragged himself over to the drawer. It looked like they were decent enough to give him a few changes of clothing, though that was the least they could do after taking away all of his personal belongings.

There was not much else. Some basic toiletries were set up in the tiny bathroom, and that was about it. The start of his new life.

Noctis had been so preoccupied on studying his room that he never noticed that there was someone in there with him. He almost jumped as he turned to see a young man sitting at one of the desks, staring at him like he’d seen a ghost.

“Oh, um, hey,” Noctis greeted awkwardly.

The boy was flabbergasted. He had a mess of blond hair and was covered in freckles. Slightly on the skinny side, he shrank into his seat to make himself appear even smaller.

Noctis frowned at his silence. “Hi?” he repeated.

Finally managing to speak, the boy stammered, “P-prince Noctis?”

“Yeah. That’s me. Your new roommate, I guess.”

The blond almost fell out of his seat as he stood up. He bowed a little too far, his hair falling over his face. Noctis watched as he tried to compose himself.

“Your Highness, sorry for not saying anything sooner, I was just—”

“Chill,” Noctis interrupted, sitting on his bed that he assumed was his. “I’m just like any other guy, now, remember? You can stop with the formalities. It’s just Noctis.”

The blond looked surprised, before he made himself grin. “Right. I’m Prompto.”

The two shook hands. Despite how nervous his new roommate was, Noctis was glad he had someone decent. He had initially feared that he’d be paired with a brute, leaving him with no peace of mind inside or outside of his cell. Then, more questions entered his mind. Prompto had to be around his age, but he didn’t look like your typical rebellious adolescent. His stance was awkward and shy, and he cast his eyes downwards instead of looking at Noctis directly. Surely he couldn’t be here for causing trouble.

Before he could ask his questions, Prompto become brave enough to ask his own first.

“So, um, why _are_ you here?”

“Treason. I spoke out against the Emperor, so I’m here for a year.”

“You only got a year for treason?” Prompto’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Noctis shrugged. “Well, yeah. Is that good?”

Prompto sat down opposite him on his own bed towards the right side of the room from where the door stood. He was fiddling with his hands as he spoke. “I’ve heard some people get five years. You got lucky.”

Gods, five years for only speaking? Noctis blinked as he digested the information. The empire was even worse than he’d originally thought. Glowering, he turned his attention back to Prompto.

“What about you? Why are _you_ here?”

“My dad works here,” Prompto replied. “It’s so he can… keep an eye on me?”

Ah, so he was a Niflheim native. Could have fooled him. Prompto didn’t carry the same arrogance most of the Niffs Noctis had met had. That, and he didn’t seem completely brain dead, so maybe he hadn’t been here that long.

His thoughts must have shown on his face. Prompto swallowed uncomfortably. “Look, I’m sorry about Lucis. I know I’m from Niflheim, but I hate everything they do. I still can’t believe they actually sent you here.”

“Then you can prove that while I’m here,” Noctis said a little too gruffly before he slumped back on his bed. He hadn’t meant to be rude, yet the anger from his entire situation was still burning brightly in him. Prompto leant back and thought it wisest to leave Noctis to his own devices while he returned to his desk.

They were both quiet for a while until Prompto turned to look at him again, smiling gently. “I can show you around tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Noctis took a moment to look at him, before his frown disappeared and his head hit the pillow again. “Yeah, thanks. That would be great.”

* * *


	2. School of White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his first day at Vis Legis, Noctis is introduced to both an ally and an enemy.

****”Hey, wake up, it’s quarter to eight.”

Noctis almost screeched at how tired he felt. He slid his eyes open, crusted over with sleep, to see his blond roommate leaning over him. Prompto had a concerned expression on his face as he tried his best to shake Noctis from his slumber.

He had slept terribly. He felt like he’d been lying on bricks rather than a mattress, and then there was the matter of being in an unfamiliar place. Prompto wasn’t a noisy companion, but Noctis had found it difficult to sleep regardless. Tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning, he had only fallen asleep at around six, meaning he’d gotten just under two hours of rest. Noctis groaned and turned over.

“I know it’s early, Noctis, but,” Prompto said, grabbing his shoulder, “it’s really not worth getting into trouble over.”

It looked like Prompto was already dressed. Noctis reluctantly sat up to rub his eyes and crack his neck.

“I feel like shit.”

“You’ll get used to it,” laughed his roommate. “At least you can get an extra hour on the weekend.”

A whole extra _hour_ of sleep? _Hooray_.

The prince, animated more like a zombie than a person, stumbled into the bathroom. He performed his usual wake-up routine before looking at himself in the mirror. Yikes. He did not look like what someone would expect of royalty, that was for certain. Prompto was already good to go by the time Noctis came out to get changed.

Pulling on his grotesque white uniform, Noctis glanced at Prompto. He was glossing over a small journal that he’d pulled out of his bag.

“That our schedule?” Noctis asked, doing the wretched top button up.

Prompto nodded. “Yeah. Our first lesson’s history. Hope you like learning about Niflheim.”

What a wonderful start to the day. Noctis followed Prompto out of their cell, surprised that the door was now unlocked. He had tried last night to open it out of curiosity, but like Ardyn had said, it wouldn’t budge. He’d also spied the emergency assistance button, and was tempted to press it before Ardyn’s words echoed in his head. Perhaps his first day was not the best day to start too much trouble.

With more people wandering about, the atmosphere lightened slightly, though it was still miserable. Noctis kept his head down as he stuck close to Prompto. He had thought about keeping entirely to himself the whole time, but then decided against it. Having no friends in such a place was not going to be a smooth ride. Not to mention, Prompto was actually a decent guy. They’d swapped backstories late last night.

Both of them were 20. Noctis' hobbies included video games and fishing, while Prompto said before he had been admitted, he had loved photography. He then spoke about the fact that he’d been at Vis Legis since he was 16 per request of his father, who wanted him to join the Niflheim military. He already knew a bit about Noctis, though he still listened avidly as Noctis told him about his life back in Insomnia. He had listened with bright eyes, eager to see for himself what things were like outside of the oppressions of Niflheim. Noctis couldn’t blame him. He didn’t know how Prompto could stay so cheerful considering his current position.

“You’re lucky we don’t have gym today,” Prompto mused as he made his way through the stark hallways. “Though, we won’t be so lucky tomorrow.”

“Why? Something bad about gym?”

Prompto grimaced. “Well, if you end up staying here, they usually want you to go into the military, like me. Gym is an excuse to train you for that, I guess.”

Good thing he wasn’t staying here, then. Noctis gave sideways glances to the boys that he passed on their way to the cafeteria. Most of them were Niffs, bulky and aggressive or small and riddled with cuts. It seemed like the term, ‘kill or be killed’ applied here. Some of them gave Noctis a look, presumably recognising him, but they said nothing. Noctis shot anyone a glare if they stared at him for too long.

Unlike yesterday when Ardyn had showed him around, the cafeteria was full. Noctis had expected it to be louder although it looked like the guards stationed around the room were preventing that from happening. The mass of young men dressed in white made his eyes feel strange.

“Grab a tray,” said Prompto as he picked up something silver. Noctis peered down, and then back up to the growing queue. He wasn’t even that hungry seeing it was this early in the morning.

As he was about to get a tray, as Prompto had instructed, they both heard a yell from further down the rows of tables. Everyone snapped their heads to two figures that had stood up to argue.

“Lucian bastard, why do you have to follow me even here?” snarled a tall, white-haired man. He was pressed up against an even more intimidating man who merely scoffed.

“You sure like to think everything’s about you, huh?”

“Oh, dear,” Prompto whispered, stepping back.

A guard moved from his post and grabbed the white-haired one by the shoulders. “Hey, knock it off.”

The guard was ignored as the inmate grabbed the other by the collar. He shook him roughly as everyone stared. Noctis didn’t catch what else he said, seeing as he was hissing under his breath, though it clearly was some kind of threat. Eventually, the guard pulled the pair apart and shoved them back into their seats. He whipped out what seemed to be a small black remote before holding it to their bracelets.

As the white-haired one tried to get up a second time, he was backhanded across the face and shoved down forcibly. “Sit _down_ , unless you want a caning, too,” spat the guard.

That got things to quiet down. Prompto leant against Noctis as the cafeteria slowly resumed to normal.

“They’re even at it at this time of day,” the blond said with a nervous chuckle. “That’s Ravus. He’s from Tenebrae, I think. Hates everyone.”

Prompto didn’t need to tell Noctis that. The prince almost gaped as he watched Ravus continue to shoot glares at the other man he had tried picking a fight with. Ravus, dear gods, it was _him_ . Noctis hadn’t seen him in _years_. Over 12, it had to have been. The last time he had seen the brother of the Oracle was such a long time ago, Noctis had to double check it really was him. What was he doing here?

Ah, of course. Tenebrae had been overtaken. He had been injured at the time, so the memory was blurry, but he remembered both Ravus and Noctis' dear childhood friend, Luna, had been taken. He supposed it was only natural that they’d stick them in one of their camps to keep them quiet and out of trouble. Did that mean that Ravus had been here for all these years?

He kept an eye on him for the remainder of the time it took for Noctis and Prompto to wait in the queue and get food. It was just plain bread and what _looked_ like soup, so Noctis only made himself nibble some of the crust. He felt sick if he ate too early.

“I’d eat that if I were you,” Prompto encouraged, frowning as Noctis' food remained mostly untouched.

“I’m good,” Noctis said firmly. He waited until Prompto had finished before getting up. He kept sneaking peeks at Ravus, though he hadn’t noticed yet. Meeting him after all this time was going to be _awkward_.

History first, then. Noctis' shoulders sagged as Prompto cleared away both of their trays and headed towards a corridor on the left. According to their schedule, they had Literature and Mathematics afterwards. Two more lessons Noctis hated.

“So, um,” he began as they walked together. “Who was the guy Ravus was arguing with?”

“Hm? Oh, that was Gladio. He’s a Lucian, too.”

Noctis thought for a moment. “Has he been here long, or did he arrive after the war ended?”

“He’s been here a year or so. I dunno what he’s like. He’s kinda scary, what with all his scars and all… I just keep my distance.”

Right. Did Prompto have any other friends besides from him? Noctis figured not, seeing as how jittery he was. He was pleasant to talk to, and Noctis appreciated it, but without a shred of meanness in him, he wasn’t entirely surprised that he was alone in a place like this.

The classroom appeared more or less like an actual classroom. It was a tad outdated, what with all the singular wooden desks. There were some electronics yet they had been pushed aside towards the back of the room. Despite how advanced Niflheim was, it seemed some of its citizens still preferred to be old-fashioned.

Out of the corner of his eye, Noctis could see the big fellow from before sitting at the front. He dwarfed the tiny chairs they had to sit in. Noctis had already forgotten his name, but he seemed to be looking at him curiously. He decided to turn away.

“There’s assigned seating,” said Prompto, in disappointment. “I can’t sit with you.”

Noctis just shrugged. “No worries. We can just talk after class.”

The pair parted ways just as everyone else found their seats. There was a spare chair at the back of the room, but before Noctis could sit down and make himself comfortable, someone walked in.

He turned to see Ravus. He was flustered, clearly still angry from earlier, though his face turned from anger to shock once his eyes settled on Noctis. This was the moment Noctis had wanted to avoid. He cringed internally, though kept his gaze steady.

“Noctis?” Ravus almost whispered.

Everyone was staring at the mention of his name. Time to be humorous about this.

“Long time no see?” Noctis said half-jokingly, not sure if Ravus would find it funny. Probably not.

After almost a full minute of mouthing and trying to find the right words to say, Ravus eventually got over his surprise and his lips curled up into a snarl. Looks like he wasn’t happy to see him after all.

“What are you _doing_ here?”

“I spoke out against the Emperor. I’m here for a year.”

“I wonder why that is?” Ravus growled sarcastically. He threw down his bag at his chair and marched forwards. “Ah, yes, it’s because your idiot of a father lost the most important war in history. You should have _won_!”

Ravus gripped his collar, much like he had done with the other guy from the cafeteria. Noctis, at first tempted to warp or use his magic, found that he was stuck. He didn’t know why he had bothered. He had tried last night. They’d sealed it off somehow, unsurprisingly. In the corner of his eye, he saw Prompto stand up worriedly, though he lost his nerve when Ravus glared at him. The big guy, though, merely watched.

“What was _I_ supposed to do?” Noctis snapped back in defense.

“Nothing, just like you Lucis Caelums always do. I swear to Bahamut, I’ll—”

“Sit down, the pair of you!”

Ravus dropped Noctis in a not so gentle manner. They whipped around to see the teacher entering. Or, at least, Noctis assumed it was their teacher. They were dressed like all the other cookie cutter guards. A box of toy soldiers.

Gripping Ravus’ left wrist, the teacher brought out the same small remote Noctis had seen the guards in the cafeteria use. He held it to the bracelet and waited until there was a small beeping sound, before removing it and gesturing to take Noctis' arm.

“I’m aware this is your first day, _Your Highness_ , but fighting will not be tolerated. Give me your wrist.”

“He started it!” Noctis protested angrily.

“I do not care. Wrist, now.”

Noctis reluctantly handed out his left arm.  He felt his bracelet vibrate as the remote was pressed to it. The teacher almost threw him his arm back before making his way to the desk at the front, looking sharply at both of them. “Mr Fleuret, I believe that is your fifth point. Make sure you report to Chancellor Izunia at lunch.”

Ravus did nothing except sneer in Noctis’ direction before taking his seat two rows in front of him. Noctis huffed as he grabbed his chair. His bracelet was now showing a green circle on it. One out of five. He could see Prompto watching him worriedly, though neither of them could say anything. The guy who's name Noctis had forgotten stifled a laugh.

His first day and he had already received one of the dreaded points Ardyn had been babbling about. Noctis continued to glance at the bracelet during the lesson, the green dot staring back mockingly. He just wanted to rip the damn thing off. Not that he was particularly scared of what awaited him once he got five… He didn’t know. Ardyn just creeped him out, he supposed.

The lesson was grating. What could he say? Noctis had tuned out for most of the next two hours, but regretted it when the teacher noticed and slapped his wrist with a cane. While his hand stung, he couldn’t blame himself for not caring about Niflheim history. What a bore.

“You okay?” Prompto asked at the blessed end of the lesson.

“Yeah, fine. It’ll take more than that to get to me.” Noctis threw him a smirk. Prompto smiled weakly as they began to head for their next lesson.

“I’m afraid there’s Literature before lunch, but after that, we have some free time. I can show you some places to hang out.”

Perfect. Noctis kept that in mind so he’d find somewhere to hide if he needed it. He’d done so at the palace. Whenever his father or the servants got on his nerves, he’d find a dark corner of the royal library to hide in while he played games on his handheld consoles. It did the trick, it kept him entertained and it kept everyone else guessing.

To his relief, Ravus was not in their next lesson. Not that it was much better, having another military-style teacher who’d snap a cane every five seconds to make sure attention was being paid. This time, Noctis tried a little harder, the back of his hand still sore. Emphasis on ‘little’.

“Say, Prompto?” The blond looked at him at the end of the lesson. Noctis had stared at his bracelet for most of it while pretending to be interested in the old book they had to study. “What happens when you get five points?”

“You go to Chancellor Izunia’s office,” he responded. “Then he punishes you. Usually with a cane.”

More flogging? Noctis frowned in thought. Not that it sounded pleasant, but if they were already striking them all day, what good would that particular punishment do?

“Look, Noct, I know earlier wasn’t your fault, but please be careful. You really don’t want to get to five.”

“Have you gotten five before?”

Prompto winced and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s never worth it.”

“Ardyn doesn’t scare me,” Noctis scoffed, despite what he thought of the man. He was creepy, sure, though did he _terrify_ him? Not quite.

“Make sure you don’t call him that!” Prompto squeaked as he hurried after him.

They paid their second visit of the day around the cafeteria. It was the same process as breakfast. Get a tray, wait in the obnoxiously long line, take whatever garbage they gave you. This time, it was a plate of boiled vegetables. Noctis turned up his nose. He still refused to eat it after Prompto’s encouragement, only eating half of what vegetables he could slightly stand. That short list included potatoes. Noctis didn’t deny the fact he was starving by now, but it wasn’t worth eating what they’d put on his tray. It wasn’t even cooked all the way through.

Throwing it all in the trash, Noctis stretched his arms above his head. “So, you gonna show me around some more?”

“Oh, sure,” Prompto mumbled as he went to clear his cutlery. As Noctis stood waiting, he felt himself knock into someone much bigger than him.

He turned to see the same guy that Ravus had picked a fight with earlier, the one in his history lesson. Gods, he was tall up close. His hair was long, his face was scarred and his appearance was gruff. Still, the name Prompto had given evaded him.

Expecting him to start a fight, Noctis went to half-heartedly apologise before the man looked him up and down curiously.

They stared each other down for a long time. Inside his mind, Noctis was praying that Prompto would hurry up and get back to him so that he wasn’t alone. Not that he couldn’t handle himself, but he was so much bigger than him, and without his magic—

“Prince Noctis?” he started in a deep voice. There seemed to be no aggression in his eyes.

Noctis blinked. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

He raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. While they were hidden beneath his white uniform, Noctis could picture the amount of muscle he probably had. Definitely not someone to get into a brawl with, then.

“I heard you were coming here.”

Was that all he was going to say? He didn’t look nervous, per se, but he did look kind of awkward. Was he trying to make friends? Noctis had assumed he was the type of person to not want any. He had been alone at breakfast earlier when Ravus had started threatening him, and Noctis had seen him continue to stay alone afterwards and in the lesson.

“Well, uh… this is going to sound out of the blue, but I think I was supposed to be your Shield, back before everything went to shit.”

“...Huh?”

Noctis edged away from his internal thoughts into pure confusion. _Shield_? What in the world was he trying to get at?

“I’m Gladiolus. From the Amicitia family.”

It rung a bell. Noctis continued to frown before it all hit him. Of course. Amicitia was the family that had always served the Lucis Caelums. His dad had spoken about them, had talked about the day Noctis would receive a Shield of his own, yet it had never happened. The family had been captured by Niflheim before he got the chance to meet them properly. So, this was where one of their members had ended up?

Prompto came back stunned to see the two bump fists, of all things. He stared between them, blinking to make sure he was seeing right.

“You’re never gonna believe this,” Noctis laughed.

* * *

 

Hiding in one of the camp’s dark study rooms, Prompto listened intently.

“So, let me get this straight,” he muttered, partially to himself. “You were, um, meant to serve Noctis?”

They had retreated once Gladio and Noctis had immediately hit it off. The two had never even met, yet it was like seeing an old friend again. Someone who was meant to be on the good side. Not that Prompto didn’t fall under that category, but Noctis felt relieved to meet with a Lucian after all this time of being trapped in the middle of Niflheim.

“Yeah. I couldn't believe it when they said you were being sent here. I ended up meeting the prince of Lucis after all,” Gladio said. “Finally, a stroke of good luck in this hellhole.”

“I heard your family got captured. You been here this whole time?” Noctis asked.

Gladio huffed. “For some of it. I’m in exactly the same situation you’re in. Sorry about the war, by the way. Fuck those Niff bastards.”

The feeling was all mutual. Even Prompto nodded in agreement. Poor kid. Noctis gave him a look. As much as he hated where he’d ended up, at least he could say he had a good time in Lucis up until now. Not that it was going to last, he knew that. It was just a year.

“You two know each other, then?” Noctis broke the brief silence.

“Oh, well, sort of.” Prompto struggled to explain himself.

“I mean, I know who he is, but we have different schedules. Don’t get to see him much. He’s a decent Niff, though.”

Prompto was still keeping his distance. He sat a few spaces away, next to Noctis and opposite Gladio, who was sitting backwards on a chair. He made the damn thing appear like a stool. Even though Gladio had been friendly so far, it seemed Prompto wasn’t comfortable enough quite yet.

Noct, however, liked him so far. Maybe it was just the comfort of their shared nationality.

“I saw you with Ravus this morning.”

“You know the guy?” Gladio grumbled.

“We were friends growing up.”

“Gods know how you survived that. Dude’s salty about the war. I mean, we all are, but he just chooses to be an asshole about it. Don’t let him bother you. Give it a few weeks and I’m sure he’ll get over himself.”

“Funny that he’s got five points, now,” Prompto added with a slight chuckle.

Gladio let out a guffaw. “Right? Maybe they’ll stick him in the water cell for a week, keep him out of our hair.”

“The fuck is the water cell?” Noctis asked as the two snorted.

“What do you think?” Gladio replied. “It’s a room that they stick you in when you’ve _really_ fucked up. They fill it with water for 90 seconds at ten minute intervals.”

Noctis gaped at him. “You mean they put people in _that_ for a whole week?!”

“Welcome to Vis Legis.”

Lunch break coming to an end finished their dark conversation. Gladio was forced to part ways, saying he had gym for the remainder for the afternoon. Noctis was sad to see him go yet he assumed they’d see each other for dinner. Well, after learning the horrors that went on in this place, it was good to have two friends to back him up. Ignoring Ravus and the point he’d gained, today hadn’t been a complete disaster after all.

By the end of the afternoon, Noctis took that statement back and was begging for death. He loathed math. Not that he was terrible at it, but _gods_ … he just couldn’t concentrate with an empty stomach, an itchy bracelet constantly chafing his wrist and the still red mark the cane had left on him.

He was thankful that dinner was at six. After hardly eating either of the previous meals, Noctis' stomach was almost screaming by the time they walked into the cafeteria for the third time that day.

“I mean, it’s not like they keep you in there for the _entire_ week,” drawled Prompto, still talking about the water cell. He’d been trying his best to reassure Noctis after seeing how horrified he looked when Gladio had told him, but Noctis didn’t need any sugar-coating. If that’s what went down here, then he was going to end up knowing about it some way or other.

Dinner was, luckily, not entirely inedible. Noctis pushed the vegetables aside to only eat the meat that was left. Finally, some _real_ sustenance, he thought bitterly.

Not that it tasted good. Noctis had to wash the stuff down with water. He was still fairly hungry when he had finished, though it wasn’t worth vegetables. Nothing ever was. He watched as Prompto made sure to finish everything on his plate. By the looks of things, he wasn’t entirely keen either, so why was he forcing himself to eat all of it?

“You take what you can get, here,” he replied when Noctis asked his thoughts. “You don’t know when they’ll just take your food away.”

Great, yet another thing to worry about. Gladio was nowhere in sight, so Noctis once again waited for his roommate to finish up before turning to leave. However, he paused once he saw a familiar head of white hair coming his way. Except, instead of walking the same arrogant strut he had done earlier, he was hunched over slightly. Not exactly limping, but he appeared like he was in pain.

“Don’t think I’m finished with you,” Ravus hissed as he brushed past Noct, holding back a wince.

“Am I supposed to be scared?” Noctis shot back.

Ravus tightened his jaw. “Act tough now, Caelum, but you’re not going to last five seconds here. You’re too used to your cushy life in Insomnia.”

He was about to just dismiss him before Noctis almost gasped when Ravus turned. He was wearing a new uniform and what was probably bandages underneath, and there was blood clearly seeping through to the back of his shirt. Hundreds of slash-shaped patches had stained the fabric like paint strokes. He had received five points earlier, hadn’t he? What the hell had been inflicted on him?

Keeping quiet, Noctis watched on as Ravus staggered out of the cafeteria, careful not to stand up straight.

He glanced down at his wrist to see the lone green dot. Maybe Prompto was right. Perhaps it wasn’t worth it.


	3. Clockwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis begins to feel uncomfortable with Ardyn's unusual interest in him, while at the same time dealing with Prompto's menacing father.

****Day two in hell.

Unlike yesterday, Noctis forced himself to eat whatever they gave him for breakfast. He had woken up almost ravenous with hunger. Not that it tasted good, though it satisfied him for the moment.

Prompto was nervous. As they finished together, Noctis frowned. “Something up?”

“Huh?” The blonde snapped his head up. “Oh, I’m fine. It’s just that we have gym today, and it’s not one of my favourite lessons.”

Noctis could understand that. When he was in the mood, he quite enjoyed exercising by warping and using his weapons, but when he had training on a day he didn’t want to move, then it was awful. Prompto wasn’t entirely scrawny, though. Surely he couldn’t be that bad at gym.

He cleared his throat as he picked up his tray. “By the way, my dad’s teaching, and, um… try not to piss him off.”

The prince gave him a friendly nudge. “You haven’t learned anything about me yet, then.”

His roommate managed a nervous chuckle. Even though Noctis had felt quite resigned last night, he’d managed to catch up on his sleep. His hand, no longer painful but still bruised, only served to egg him on more. He’d never cared much about his status before, but if they’d managed to catch him, the prince of Lucis, then they weren’t going to have an easy time dealing with him.

‘Gym’ ended up not being gym after all. There was no sports hall in sight, only a large concrete yard fenced off by wire mesh. Back in his high school, the gym had been filled with all sorts of equipment, but all Noctis could see was a weapon display.

Some of his year had already arrived. They skulked around the edges of the fence, kicking pebbles up. Again, they looked him up and down, though didn’t make a move to say anything or agitate him. Not with the coach around, anyway.

A man was adjusting one of the imperial rifles while waiting for everyone to arrive. Noctis could see how he and Prompto were related. He had the same blond hair, only his was slicked back, and he was wearing a similar military uniform—although a tad more decorative—to Ardyn. He appeared far more like an actual soldier than someone who taught gym.

Everyone bolted into line once he put the rifle down.

“You’re lucky I don’t give all of you a point for your tardiness,” he griped, beginning to pace in front of them. Prompto was standing as stiff as a board, careful not to look directly at him.

It was only a matter of time before he came to a stop in front of Noctis. The prince remained silent, keeping steady eye contact.

“Ah, you must be our new celebrity.” His voice was deep and grating. “Noctis, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Noctis bit back sharply.

“I am Chief Verstael Besithia. I will be teaching you weaponry and research technology. Oh, and in the future,” he cut himself off to snatch up Noctis’ wrist. Holding his own remote to it, he added Noctis’ second point, “you will address me as _sir_.”

Some of the other boys snickered. Noctis clenched his teeth in fury as Verstael only smiled smugly. Prompto had his shoulders hunched, internally cringing. Gods, if this was his dad, then no wonder he was scared of him.

“Right,” Verstael said as he spun on his heel. “Since the prince here is unfamiliar with how things work in my lessons, then I will take the time to demonstrate. This is not a physical education class. Vis Legis is not concerned about your health. You are here to learn how to be beneficial to the empire.”

Noctis had his suspicions since the start, so Verstael admitting that their camps were simply another way to farm soldiers felt satisfying. They could try and manipulate him into becoming their attack dog as much as they wanted, but Noctis wasn’t going to break.

“Noctis, how about you demonstrate to us what you can do?”

“Huh?” he mumbled impolitely. Verstael decided not to comment on it.

“You were trained professionally, were you not? I’d like to see for myself what you are capable of.”

The man was smirking. If he knew that, then he would know that Noctis’ magic had been cut off. How could he show them if he couldn’t summon his weapons from the Armiger? Just as as he was about to protest that he couldn’t do anything, Verstael picked up a sword from the weapon rack and handed it to him. Right. That took care of that, he supposed.

It felt weird to use a weapon that wasn’t his. Noctis felt the weight of the sword for a moment, adjusting it in his hand. The blade was a light silver with the Niflheim emblem engraved onto the hilt. It was scratched and slightly dull from years of handling.

It felt wrong to hold it.

Verstael turned back to the rest of the class. “Would anyone like to volunteer themselves to dual His Highness?”

When nobody answered, he decided to pick on someone. Eyes wandering to the back, Verstael pointed to a tall, muscular figure.

“Gladiolus. Step forward.”

Since when had Gladio joined? Both Noctis and Prompto whipped around to stare at him. He must have slid his way into the yard when nobody was watching. How he’d arrived so silently was beyond them. Prompto looked between them anxiously. Gladio, somewhat unsure of the situation, stepped forward regardless.

He picked up his own sword from the rack. A much bigger one. He nodded to Noctis briefly. He held no aggression, but he seemed like the type to not hold back, and with his magic gone, Noctis would be forced to fight differently. He couldn’t rely on warping or weapon-switching for this one.

Everyone stepped back to give them room. Circling each other, they searched for any weaknesses in their postures, and upon finding them, they lunged. Metal scraped against metal loudly as their swords clashed. Noctis could feel the immense weight of the broadsword Gladio was using, and while the man had strength, there was always a way to use that against him. While Noctis was smaller, he was also faster.

He zipped around Gladio like a fly. While warping would have made made things a lot easier, he used his skills in rolling and dodging the attacks coming from him. Gladio was crazy strong with how he expertly swung the large weapon around like it was a twig, and Noctis didn’t underestimate him even though he knew he would win. He was glad he had the chance to meet him yesterday. A Lucian with good skills to defend himself was exactly what he needed in this place.

It had only been five or so minutes into their fight before Verstael called for them to end it. He clapped once in approval. “Well, how impressive. Those Lucians are quite skilled after all.”

Gladio just grunted and dropped his weapon back off at the rack. Before Noctis could follow suit, Verstael stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

Everyone had already gotten into their places. Some had reached for rifles, others had reached for the axes Noctis had seen some MTs wield and others preferred blades. They never noticed as the Chief tightened his grip on Noctis’ shoulder. “You’ll make a fine soldier for Niflheim, my boy.”

“Not on your life,” Noctis growled. Verstael only laughed. Thankfully, he did not give him another point to add to his bracelet.

“You got skills, prince,” Gladio said as he found Noctis again in the fray. “You’ll fit in fine here.”

“Yeah, you were awesome, man!” Prompto was grinning in excitement. He was clutching the typical rifle the MT gunmen would often carry around.

“S’nothing,” Noctis muttered but he returned Prompto’s highfive regardless.

The rest of the morning was spent training with the weapons that had been laid out for them. Noctis had decided to keep the sword, seeing as how he was most comfortable using one. He avoided everyone else and either continued to spar with Gladio, or picked up a gun to shoot the targets that Prompto was going for. Verstael, despite how strict he had been, had mostly allowed them to choose what weapon they preferred, and hadn’t interrupted except to jostle them awake.

That was fine by Noct. As long as he kept his distance, then he didn’t mind practicing with the weaponry. At least it was something he knew how to do. They couldn’t force him to be their soldier.

“So, that’s your dad, huh?” he spoke as he went to reload his rifle.

Prompto gave another awkward chuckle. “Yup.”

“Are you really going to go into the military for him?”

“I mean, I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Sure you do.” Noctis frowned at Prompto’s submissive posture. He had avoided his father’s gaze for the entire lesson, merely nodding when he had to and focusing entirely on his gun. “Once you’re out of here, he can’t tell you what to do.”

“You say that, but where would I go instead? I’m stuck in Niflheim whether I like it or not. I’m not good at science or anything else my dad approves of, so being a gunman is the only thing I have going for me.”

The lesson was continued in silence. Prompto went back to shooting and Noctis decided he’d had enough. He dropped the rifle carelessly and crept around the crowds to hide from Verstael’s hawk-like gaze. Avoiding his superiors was something Noctis had been used to for years.

For the most part, he succeeded. The gate was opened and Noctis took the opportunity to bolt out before he could be stopped. He was sure Verstael must have noticed, though he didn’t hear anything else from him. He’d had enough of the man watching him for the past three hours. He wanted some privacy.

Really, Noctis wished he could hide in his room to eat, just like he often did back in the castle, and lamented that fact. He missed his alone time. He missed his dad. He even missed the shitty apartment they’d been forced into. It had only been two days, but gods, he was already homesick.

“Where are you going, dude?” he heard Prompto call out for him.

Turning around, he saw both him and Gladio making their way towards him. He arched a brow.

“Uh, going to lunch?”

“Showers first, unfortunately,” Gladio said.

Oh. He’d completely forgotten about showering. He’d been in such a haste to get out that he hadn’t realised that his back and neck were drenched. No way would any guard put up with him in this state. There hadn’t been a shower in his room, though, so where was he supposed to go?

Noctis wished he hadn’t asked that question. To his absolute horror, there was a single shower room. No cubicles, no walls, only a massive tiled chamber. A _nightmare_.

His two companions had already began to strip off. Noct, however, simply stood there dumbfounded. No _way_ was he going to get naked in front of all these people.

“You just going to stand there?” a guard barked. “Hurry up and get on with it.”

Fuck. The guard had a gun and a cane. There was no way he could escape the shower room without him noticing. Noct, face twisted up into a wince, closed his eyes and slowly, slowly began to peel his uniform jacket off. Hell, getting shirtless was embarrassing enough, let alone getting in the nude entirely.

“I’m in hell, I’m in hell, I’m in hell,” he repeated under his breath. Anything to keep him going.

It seemed Gladio found his discomfort funny. The older boy chuckled as Noctis kept his head down and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Get used to it, Noct. You’ve got another year of this to go.”

 _Oh, don’t remind me_ , Noctis thought bitterly. He jumped when the cold water sprayed his head. It wasn’t just cold, it was absolutely _freezing_. How he’d kill for a warm soak in his oversized bath right now. Even though he could hardly see what he was doing, he refused to look up. He didn’t like seeing his own naked body so he didn’t want to see anyone else’s.

After washing his hair and everything else as quickly as humanly possible, Noctis was forced to lift his head to rinse it. As he did, he caught sight of some of the boy’s backs.

It was horrific.

The amount of scars and welts crisscrossing their skin was disgusting. Some were fresh, most were old and scarred. Literally everyone in the room had them. Across their shoulder blades, down their spines, some even snaking along their thighs. Bruises littered every other body part that wasn’t touched by the canes. Was that how he was going to end up? A scarred, mangled wreck of a person?

Even Gladio and Prompto had them. Granted, most of them seemed old, but _ouch_.

When the horrendous showering period was finally over, Noctis raced to get his clothes on. New uniforms had been prepared based on size. Most of him was still damp yet he didn’t care. He just needed to cover up.

“I don’t know how you guys stand that,” he said while shivering in repulsion. The freezing water and grimy floors had been enough, and however badly Noctis was craving privacy earlier was nothing to what he was feeling now.

“Nobody does,” said Gladio. “We just gotta deal with it.”

 _Still_.

Lunch was, again, uneventful. Since Gladio was with them, they had stuck closely together as a threesome. Prompto was very happy with the situation, saying he’d usually have to spend his time alone. Noctis was thankful he had had him as a roommate instead of someone like Ravus. That was a possibility he didn’t want to begin to imagine.

Since they’d been forced to shower beforehand, they didn’t get much of a break, though Noctis took the opportunity to learn some more things about his new friends.

They were very different, but also seemed to get along with each other well. Prompto had been nervous for nothing. Once he watched Noctis becoming more and more casual with Gladio over the course of the morning and lunch hour, he had slowly began to open up. He was quite a bit more energetic than he first appeared, that was for certain.

“What, you think that’s bad?” Gladio snorted as the two were comparing who had the worst punishment. Noctis sat in between them, stunned. “They made me go without food for a week once.”

“How… what does that feel like?” Noctis whispered.

“You don’t wanna find out,” laughed Gladio.

“I was in the water cell for two days!” Prompto countered. There was clearly trauma in his eyes, yet he was doing his best to make light of it.

“Try four days.”

“ _Alright_ , guys, changing the topic,” Noctis interrupted. “What have we got next?”

“Uhh,” Prompto hummed as he reached for his journal, “research technology.”

The prince paused for a moment. “Wait, isn’t that what your dad teaches too?”

They all grimaced. Three hours with the man breathing down their necks was bad enough, but now they had to deal with him again in the afternoon? It was official, Wednesday was the new Monday.

“What even _is_ research technology?” Noctis griped.

“You know Niffs love their Magitek shit, right?” Gladio mentioned. Noctis nodded, wondering what else he was going to explain. “It’s a class on that, all their weaponry and stuff. Think a combination of chemistry and engineering from a normal high school.”

“Don’t they use daemons in their engineering?”

Gladio nodded with his arms folded. “Uh-huh. Not here, though, so don’t fret. All you have to worry about is that nutjob of a professor.”

Daemons were the last thing Noctis wanted to deal with. If they weren’t going to handle that here, then he was glad, but chemistry? Engineering? Two more subjects he loathed. Math was hard enough on its own, though chemistry only served to make it even more confusing. Noctis didn’t care much for machines and technology either, besides his phone, of course. He wished he could go on it. Two days of no electronics was starting to get to him.

No time like the present, right? Their break over, the three grabbed their things and followed Prompto to a separate wing. There was an enormous lab shaped like a cube, with dim windows and high-tech locks keeping the doors shut. They couldn’t enter on their own, so they had to wait outside.

Noctis was about to talk to Prompto to pass the time before he felt a hand on his shoulder for the second time that day.

He spun around to see the Chancellor beaming at him.

“Ah, hello, Noct.” The prince glowered. Only people he liked could call him that. “May I borrow you a moment?”

His friends looked at him curiously, though they couldn’t do anything to stop Ardyn gently guiding Noctis away from the lab. Wasn’t he supposed to have a lesson? If Ardyn was going to waste his time, then he’d end up being late.

“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long,” the older man purred, reading his thoughts.

Noctis glanced up at him, not saying hello or anything else. He just wanted to get whatever Ardyn wanted with him over with.

“How are you settling in?” was all he asked. Was that it? Was _that_ all he wanted to know?

“Fine,” Noctis muttered.

It seemed Ardyn was expecting him to say something else, so he gazed at him for a moment before deciding to continue. “Grand. I see you’ve made some friends.”

Who was this guy, his _dad_?

“...Yeah.”

Ardyn spent an uncomfortable time watching him. Noctis shuffled his feet awkwardly, not wanting to elaborate on his answers any more than he already had. This guy was the Chancellor, wasn’t he? So why was he wasting time like this when he had such an important job? Noctis didn’t know why he was even at the camp in the first place. He must have a load of personal assistants working for him if he could afford to lollygag around.

Eventually, Ardyn’s eyes trailed down to the metal bracelet on Noctis’ left wrist. He caught sight of the two green dots and pretended to gasp.

“Why, Noct, you _already_ have two points? What have you been up to?”

Holy _fuck_ , he was annoying.

He shrugged. “They were both accidents.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The first one had been Ravus’ fault for starting a fuss, and the second one was because Verstael was an uptight bastard.

Ardyn feigned a frown, yet Noctis could see the edges of his mouth twitching. He was clearly pleased.

“Well, do clean up your act, Your Highness. I would _hate_ to have to see you in my office so soon after your arrival.”

As if. The man was enjoying every _second_ of Noctis' discomfort, sarcasm and condescendence dripping from each word that fell from his mouth. Noctis had to clench his fists to contain his anger. As much as he was tempted, punching the Chancellor wasn’t going to end well for him.

Blessed be, Ardyn finally decided to end their little meeting. He gave him a curt nod before turning to leave. “Stay out of trouble.”

Stay out of trouble, his ass. The points he had earned weren’t his fault! How was he supposed to maintain a clean record if he was punished for what others did, or for such meager things that weren’t worth a second thought? Huffing in annoyance, Noctis stomped back angrily to the lab around the corner. His class was still waiting, and Gladio and Prompto looked apprehensive.

“You’re back,” Gladio greeted. “What did the Chancellor want?”

“I don’t know. He just wanted to see how I was doing.”

The pair glanced at each other.

Gladio was the first to speak again. “What the hell did you to get his attention? He never bothers with _anyone._ ”

Best not to mention that Ardyn had given him a personal tour of the camp on Monday, then. If that was the case, why was he paying such personal attention to him? Noctis hadn’t done anything worthy of recognition, his most outstanding feature being his royal status. Was that what Ardyn cared about? If yes, then why? He was the Chancellor of Niflheim, the most powerful empire in the world. He already had everything he could possibly want.

Initially, Noctis had just assumed he was a creep with no sense of personal space, but seeing Prompto and Gladio’s concerned expressions, he wasn’t sure what to think.

Prompto’s father interrupted his thoughts with his arrival. He swiped his keycard through the door’s electronic lock, opening the way into the lab. He gestured for everyone to follow him inside, not saying much else.

The laboratory didn’t look like a typical lab would. It was glistening white, cleaned to absolute perfection. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the building’s stained metallic walls. Even more impressive was the clean display of all sorts of equipment. Noctis had never been interested in Niflheim’s affairs, but he couldn’t deny that their technology was astounding.

Verstael barked at everyone dawdling to take their seats. He took notice that Noctis was again present and the tiniest smile crept onto his face. Great, another man obsessing over him.

“We are continuing our research on Magitek cores from last week,” he began to drawl. “We’ve gone over what lead to their development, so now, it is your turn to make your own.”

Noctis' eyebrows shot up. What the hell did he mean, make their own?

He supposed that explained the mess of mechanical parts laid before them on the table. There were screws, wires, and a bunch of other bits Noctis couldn’t identify. There was also a blueprint and a set of tools for him.

He hadn’t noticed Verstael creeping up behind him. “I’m sure His Highness is aware of our Magitek Trooper units, correct?” When Noctis nodded, he appeared pleased. “Marvelous. You can do the research you missed in your own time, while today, we will see how good your mechanical skills are.”

Noctis was well aware of what Magitek cores were. They were the glowing red contraptions found in Niflheim’s creepy robot soldiers. He wasn’t entirely sure of what they did and what they were made of, and it seemed what he had been given was only the hardware. Whatever made it glow red was not present.

Well, now he could see about what Gladio had meant about Verstael being a nutjob. The man was lost in his own explanations, eyes gleaming at his own research. Noctis was sure he wasn’t even talking to the class anymore.

He was left with Gladio showing him how to use some of the tools. It wasn’t difficult, they were tools Noctis had seen before, but reading the complicated blueprint was another matter. He spent most of the time just studying people around him instead.

From what he had gathered, he had to start with the glass tube at the centre. Noctis was careful to attach all the weird circular metallic parts connecting it to the discs on the outside, and while wrapping the odd wire around it was difficult and he was sure he’d done it wrong, it looked presentable. He flicked his eyes over to Gladio, and watched as he deftly handled the small object like he knew how to do so by heart. Prompto, on the other hand, was far too clumsy. He didn’t have large hands, though his fingers shook too much.

“Well done,” Verstael praised at the end of it. “Not bad for your first attempt. If you refuse to be a soldier, then you could make a decent engineer if you wanted to.”

Noctis ignored his remark. He wasn’t going to be a soldier, _or_ a slave that built their freaky robots for them. If he thought he could nudge Noctis in either direction, he was wrong.

The Chief glanced at his son. Rolling his eyes at Prompto’s failed attempt, he moved on to the other side of the room.

Anger flared up in Noctis' chest. Prompto had tried, hadn’t he? He was his damned father, the least Verstael could do was praise his efforts! While he was dejected, Prompto masked it with humour once again.

“Told you I was useless at science. Couldn’t built one of these if my life depended on it.”

The core building had quickly eaten up the rest of the afternoon. Noctis' hands ached at the end of it, sore from handling oddly shaped bits of metal. He was glad when it was all over.

“I’m ready for the weekend,” Noctis said as he stifled a yawn.

“Gotta agree with you there,” Gladio commented.

“Prompto, tell me we have something bearable tomorrow.” The prince turned to the blond hopefully.

Prompto’s face, however, morphed into a grimace. “Uh, hate to break it to you, but we have gym with Ravus.”


	4. The Misfortunate Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verstael continues to be a dick as Noctis gets through his training lesson, only for his week to end badly.

****At the other end of the court, Ravus had been giving Noctis looks that could kill.

The prince glared back. As Prompto had said, Ravus unfortunately had to join them for their gym lesson the next day. Despite how he’d treated Noctis two days ago, he’d been willing to make amends. Ravus, not so much. He’d ignored Noctis’ nod of greeting and pushed past him to be with his lackeys. Noctis didn’t know any of them, and strangely enough, they seemed to be Niffs. He’d assumed Ravus was too high and mighty to make friends that weren’t from Tenebrae. Or to make friends at all.

As he’d entered the outside yard, Noctis had expected to be doing more of the same that they’d done yesterday. Except that wasn’t so. Verstael was again present, though standing next to him was a young woman.

Prompto had turned red in the face and doe-eyed as soon as he’d laid eyes on her. As their class stood in their poker-straight line, Noctis watched him flush out of the corner of his eye.

“Who’s the one you’ve been staring at this whole time?” he whispered, giving the blond a nudge.

He jumped in embarrassment. “What? Oh, um, that’s Aranea. She’s a commodore for the imperial army, but sometimes she helps out here. We’re _so_ lucky!”

He was acting like a schoolboy. Noctis chuckled, amused to see Prompto continue to observe her with a gaze of admiration… and probably something else. Noctis looked over to her. He couldn’t hear clearly, though it looked like Aranea was arguing with Verstael. She had her arms folded and was looking at him in disapproval. Verstael, with the usual smug smile on his face, dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

He then ended the conversation abruptly. Marching back over to the line of inmates, he cleared his throat.

“We will be doing something a little different today,” he began, eagerness evident in his voice. “Thanks to the army’s generosity, you will be training with Magitek Troopers.”

They all looked at each other. Noctis narrowed his eyes. Did he say _Magitek Troopers_? The robotic soldiers Niflheim produced by the dozen? Noctis hadn’t seen any at the camp, despite how much the empire loved to use them. Perhaps they didn’t have the intellect to be guards, only humanoid weapons. He didn’t know much about them, but he wasn’t looking forward to whatever Verstael had planned.

The Chief gestured to a figure that was leaning against the wall. The terrifying dark android was familiar. It wasn’t moving, tightly gripping onto an enormous axe. It had to be at least seven feet tall.

“Here is a defected Armoured Axeman. While it is too unstable to be used in a military unit, it still works. That’s where you lot come in.”

They were going to have to _fight_ it?

Though Noctis was sure they could move on their own, this one looked to be in a statis mode. It stood motionless. There was a small machine nearby that glowed red with power, so he assumed they must be wirelessly connected. If the MT was defected, then that machine was probably stabilising it. To prove his point, Verstael pressed a button on the machine and the MT whirred to life.

Its haunting red eyes sent shivers down Noctis’ spine. It was entirely robotic, from its armour to the contents beneath. Its inside shuddered yet it was moving normally. It staggered forth, axe in hand.

“Who would like to go first?” Verstael asked with a sadistic grin.

Everyone stepped back. The only one that hadn’t moved was Ravus. He adamantly stood rooted in place, shooting daggers at the MT in front of him.

“You seem keen” Verstael commented. Ravus said naught. “Well, go ahead, Ravus. Just try not to damage it too much… wouldn’t want to waste it on one lesson.”

Taking a sword from the weapon rack, Ravus made his way towards the MT. The machine got into a defensive posture as soon as Ravus came within its vicinity. Swinging its axe down, it aimed for Ravus’ head before he leapt out of the way with astounding speed.

He’d vastly improved over the 12 long years he had been gone. He had only recently began his training when Noctis had last seen him, and now he was good as Noctis himself, if not better. He dodged every single one of the MT’s swings with room to spare and had now gotten it on its knees. Satisfied, Verstael gave the MT a command to halt its attack. Ravus had barely broken a sweat.

“Excellent. Keep that up and you’ll find yourself climbing the army ranks in no time.”

Ravus ignored Verstael’s praise and wordlessly returned to the line.

One by one, each of the boys tried their luck. Some failed miserably after being flung into the wire fence, others got close enough to confuse the MT but lost at the last second. Few won. Though, it was difficult to. Verstael was so precious about damaging the damn thing he forbid any direct attacks to the vulnerable parts of it, which included the torso and eyes. Their only realistic options were to knock it down or strike it on the back of the head.

The woman that Prompto had been ogling, Aranea, was silently watching. She didn’t look pleased, uncomfortable in the MT’s presence. Noctis could understand. Those things were fairly unsettling.

It was almost Noctis’ turn before Verstael’s phone rang. He answered it nonchalantly, though upon hearing the Chancellor’s voice, was forced to leave.

“Keep an eye on them, Aranea,” he instructed. “Spar it yourself if you want, as long as you don’t wreck it.”

Prompto had to stop himself from jumping up and down on the spot in excitement. Aranea made her way forward. She caught sight of Noctis almost immediately.

“Nice to meet you, prince,” she said casually. At first, he was taken aback by her tone, though smiled back. Hopefully she wasn’t as barbaric as every other guard here. Prompto said she was only here some of the time, wasn’t she? Aranea glanced at the MT that was currently trying to slice an inmate’s head off while they ran around in circles. “Creepy fucking things, aren’t they?”

“Do you not approve?”

“Gods no,” Aranea replied in disgust. “Just because I’m in the army doesn’t mean I agree with them. Hell, I don’t even like this place that much. A shame you got caught up in all of this mess.”

Well, that was a surprise. Prompto seemed as shocked as he did, except his eyes lit up more. If she didn’t like the army, then why was she working for them?

They watched as she turned her attention back to the struggling inmate. The MT had only gotten more aggressive in its attacks, and they were running out of breath. Aranea got a little closer but kept her distance from the scuffle.

“Hey, kid, you’re aiming for the wrong places. Go for the head,” she said.

Gladly obeying, the boy got to his feet and rolled around to the MT’s blindspot. He had short daggers within his hands, which was definitely the wrong choice of weapon when facing an Axeman. As Aranea had told him to, he launched them at the back of the MT’s metallic skull. Once it went down, Aranea turned the machine off. She hoisted the trembling kid up and sent him on his way with a gentle nudge. It was a vast improvement to Verstael’s method. The man had stood there and laughed whenever the MT landed a blow on someone.

Finally, it was Noctis’ turn. He wasn’t nervous. The thing was broken. It still functioned to a degree, yet its core processor was bugged and slowed it down. A properly functional MT would have been much faster and more accurate with its hits. Noctis wasn’t sure how they worked exactly, but it didn’t take an expert to see that this one was damaged.

He picked up the same sword he had used before. Most of the blades available were too short or too heavy. Noctis liked a weapon to be in the middle, balanced fairly on all aspects. He twirled it in his hand before confronting the now awakened MT.

The short battle began well. Noctis was light on his feet like always, and the MT wasn’t able to get anywhere near him.

Aranea commented on his progress, impressed. Her words of encouragement made him feel a little better. If she was in more of his training classes, then perhaps his stay here would be manageable.

He found himself hoping that until the MT abruptly came to a halt. Noctis stopped before he could hit it, confused. Had it finally shut down? It _had_ taken quite the beating before he had gotten his turn, after all. Both he and Aranea frowned in concern.

“Huh. Maybe it was more broken than we thought,” the commodore muttered.

Suddenly, the sounds of the MT’s inner mechanisms gave off a concerning _clank_. It convulsed, its programming desperately trying to figure out what it was meant to be doing, until it turned to Noctis with its disturbing glowing eyes and lunged.

“Crap!” he yelled as the MT’s axe smashed down into the ground beside him.

It was no longer sluggish like it was before. The MT was dead set on destroying Noctis where he stood. Its movements were janky and uncalculated, but if it managed to hit him, then his injuries could prove fatal. When the MT was moving too rapidly to strike, Noctis took off running.

“Hey, prince! Don’t run off!” he heard Aranea calling after him.

“Not like I can help it!” he replied as he dodged yet another collision.

“I think you should turn it off!” Prompto said worriedly, rocking on his heels. Everyone, terrified, pressed themselves up against the fence.

Except when the machine’s buttons were pressed, the MT did not stop. Part of it looked like it had been kicked in, or at least hit harshly. Had someone been too careless when handling it?

“Machine is broken!” someone yelled.

Aranea blew out a sigh and whipped her lance out. “Damn it.”

Noctis didn’t have much of a choice except to fight back against the malfunctioning MT. He’d managed to knock off several bits of armour, stripping away the layers of protection to its red cores. He’d assembled one of those things yesterday. From what he remembered when reading the blueprints, its weak points were the fragile glass cylinders within it. Without their protective plating, they were wide open.

Stabbing his sword deep into the MT’s chest, Noctis squeezed his eyes shut as it burst into an array of sparks. It was still trying to attack him, so Noctis swiped his leg to knock it off its feet. He destroyed each of the glowing red cores that was powering the violent piece of machinery. With a robotic splutter, it finally came to a stop.

Aranea gave it one more jab in the chest with her lance to be sure.

They looked down at it. The MT was shredded into pieces, its face cover ripped off and its cores smashed in. Verstael wasn’t going to be pleased after what he had specifically told them _not_ to do.

Speaking of the devil, the Chief returned while he finished his phone call. Upon seeing the MT’s mangled corpse, he paused, stunned, before he balled his fists in a rage.

“What did you _do_?”

“It went crazy!” Noctis said. Verstael stared at the remains before turning to Noct.

“It malfunctioned, sir,” Aranea added. “The prince didn’t have a choice.”

“You didn’t have to _destroy_ it!” Verstael yelled. Raising his arm, he clipped Noctis on the back of the head. “What a waste of machinery!”

Could this man be any more demented? Noctis gave him the most incredulous look he could muster. The damn thing was broken in the first place, so what did it matter if it had to be destroyed? It was useless for the army, and surely it wouldn’t have held out long acting as a training dummy. Noctis just couldn’t believe it.

Verstael then turned his anger to Aranea. “I leave you alone for _five_ minutes, Highwind.”

She made no attempt to argue back. Noctis could see the resistance in her eyes, however. She peered to her left and said nothing.

“Give me your wrist, boy.”

Noctis wavered. “What?”

“Did you think I’d let you go unpunished for destroying an MT?” Verstael snarled, remote already in hand.

“But I _told_ you, it malfunctioned!” Noctis spat. “What did you _expect_ me to do?”

The expression Verstael was wearing was murderous. Everyone was staring at Noctis in surprise. Nobody, not even Aranea, had dared to speak to Verstael like he had. Prompto hid his face behind his hands. Noctis had fucked up, big time.

The Chief took his arm regardless. Noctis had to hold himself back from shouting when he heard two _beeps_ instead of one.

“You will receive two. One for the MT, and the other for talking back to me.” Verstael squeezed his wrist tightly, almost snapping the bone, before he let go. Noctis snatched it back and held it to his chest. Verstael then leant back and raised an eyebrow. “I suggest you to not get on my bad side, Prince Noctis. Your regular punishments will be painful enough. You do not want to know what I can do with my... _imagination_.”

His furious scowl twisted into a sneer upon seeing Noctis’ discomfort. Aranea flashed him a look of pity which he could not respond to, and he resigned himself back to the crowd. Prompto was gritting his teeth. Noctis ignored him, instead choosing to glare at his bracelet. Then, his eyes caught side of Ravus lingering near the box that controlled the MT.

The bastard was grinning. He gave Noctis a small wave.

It had been _him_ that had fucked up the MT! They’d said the box was busted, right? Nobody else could have done it except someone from the crowd while they had been distracted. He decided right then and there that Ravus was a massive twat. Though, twat was probably too nice of a word for him. He thought about saying something, but he knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

Four. Four cursed points in only _four_ days. The first day hadn’t even counted! Three of them were from Verstael in the matter of 24 hours, two of which could be blamed on Ravus. Noctis curled and uncurled his fingers as he tried to calm himself down. He was now only one point away from having to meet with Ardyn.

“Dude,” he heard Prompto say. “...Unlucky.”

“Is that all you got to say?” Noctis replied harshly.

Prompto shrank back. “No, I just meant—”

Too irritable to listen, Noctis turned his head away. He didn’t mean to cut Prompto off. He already felt guilty, yet the fury within him had to be contained otherwise he’d unleash it on the next person who spoke to him.

The rest of the lesson was spent by watching Verstael bark orders at guards to clean up the mess from the wrecked MT. Aranea lingered, though Verstael forbid her from speaking to the inmates. A shame, really. Aranea had been the only one besides his companions that Noctis had actually liked. Prompto had said she was from the army, but it looked like she didn’t actually have any authority in Vis Legis other than what privileges she was given.

Noctis continued to sulk at lunch. Gladio had joined them and only just asked what the matter was after he complained about his math lesson.

“What’s up? Did something happen?”

The prince idly flashed his bracelet.

“...The fuck did you _do_?” Gladio asked after noticing the amount of points he had racked up.

“Had to break the MT Verstael thought was a good idea to bring in. Ravus fucked it up for me.”

“Wait, it was _Ravus_ who did it?” said Prompto.

“Yeah. Saw him by the machine.”

The blond was flabbergasted. He then explained in more detail of what had occurred in their morning lesson, still in bewilderment that Ravus was the one to blame. The older boy cringed at the story.

“Well, jeez. That’s stupid,” he said before falling into silence. “Oh, I do have some good news for you. Iggy’s helping making lunch today.”

“Yes!” Prompto cried.

Noctis only grunted. “Who?”

“Ignis, my roommate. He’s usually in another wing from us, so it makes sense you haven’t met, but let me tell you, man cooks like a godsdamned legend. Sure beats the shit they usually serve us.”

As long as it wasn’t vegetables again, Noctis couldn’t care less _what_ he was given. He’d spent the past four days hungry, not just from refusing to eat what he didn’t like, but that they never gave them that much in the first place. It was always a small portion and they tried to be as ungenerous as possible when sharing the servings. At this point, Noctis was willing to eat almost anything. Emphasis on almost.

Gladio was right. Instead of the usual expressionless chefs, a young man wearing glasses, with his hair slicked up, was assisting in preparing the food. And, to Noctis’ surprise, it actually smelled quite nice.

“Iggy,” Gladio greeted as he held out his fist. Ignis turned to awkwardly fist bump him. A formal man, no doubt. “Take a look at who I’ve got with me.”

The bespectacled man shifted his gaze over to Noct. It was hard to see his eyes considering his glasses were reflecting the blinding light of the cafeteria, though he was sure there was astonishment on his face.

“It’s the prince of Lucis!” Prompto said as he thrusted his tray forwards in order to be served.

“Well, so it is,” Ignis said in a calm, smooth voice. “Your Highness, it is a pleasure. I am Ignis Scientia.”

He shook hands with Noctis over the counter. Gladio laughed loudly.

“Aw, cut the pleasantries, Ignis. He’s chill.”

There wasn’t much room to say anything else due to the growing queue behind them. They received their lunch for the day and hurriedly went to grab a table before they were forced to eat on the floor.

Lo and behold, it graciously wasn’t vegetables. Noctis thanked the gods above that Ignis had made steak and a serving of potatoes. The food itself wasn’t anything special, but he’d done something to make it far more appetizing. Noctis could taste a range of spices that he couldn’t identity, and he felt more satisfied than he had since he’d arrived. If Gladio’s roommate could cook every day, then lunch would be something to look forward to rather than something to be dreaded.

Gladio and Prompto had inhaled theirs in seconds. The three sat in content until the queue ended and Ignis actually came around to join them.

“When did you arrive here, Your Highness?” he asked, holding his knife and fork properly. Everyone else ate like an animal. Noctis watched as he delicately cut his steak into pieces.

“Oh, uh, Monday. I’m here for a year. Shit happens.”

Ignis hummed. “I see. That is unfortunate. My condolences for the war efforts on behalf of Lucis.”

His accent was different from theirs, though from his guesses, Ignis was a Lucian as well. Gladio had surprisingly not mentioned him before. Wouldn’t he want Noctis to know there was another potential ally waiting for him?

“Thanks,” Noctis replied bluntly. “What about you? You been here long?”

“For quite some time. While the House of Scientia has served the royal family for many years, we unfortunately became property of Niflheim many years ago. I have been in Vis Legis for almost five years.”

“Five years?” Noctis spluttered on his water. He couldn’t imagine staying here for that long. The past four days had been bad enough, from having Ravus threatening him to then sabotaging the MT machine to deliberately get him in trouble. In that short amount of time, Noctis had either seen firsthand or heard of the horrors that went on in this place. If Ignis had been here for five years, then what the hell had _he_ been through? “Well, when do you get out?”

“I am 22 currently, so when I am 25. It is the cut off age for all here.”

Another three agonising years to wait, then. How… awful.

As their lunch break came to a close, Noctis found out that he rather liked Ignis. He was cool-headed, rational and serious, and it complimented Prompto and Gladio’s more erratic natures nicely. He did, however, make the occasional sarcastic joke, so he wasn’t _all_ work and no play.

The two older boys had to leave once their time was up. It looked like Gladio only had lessons with them a few times a week, and Ignis hardly any at all. He bid them a formal farewell and disappeared into a section of the building that Noctis had yet to explore. He still had to follow Prompto like a lost lamb, as he had no idea where he was going. He couldn’t even remember where their cells were.

Another thing that could be added to the list of what made Vis Legis shit was the amount of homework.

That night, Noctis groaned in despair. From his latest history lesson, he had been forced to read up on Niflheim lore, and it was horrendous. Every section bored him, and what was worse was that he had to write a section of it up in his own words.

He had only gotten two sentences in when Prompto took noticed and gasped. “No, not like that!”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“If you don’t write it neatly, they won’t count it.”

Oh, you had to be _kidding_. Noctis clutched his pen. There was no hope for his writing, which looked like a spider covered in ink had ran across the page.

“But that’ll take me all night!” he whined.

Prompto gave him a look of sympathy. “I just don’t want you to get another point, man. It’s only your first week.”

That was fair enough. Crumpling the lined paper into a ball, Noctis chucked it into the wastebasket before getting a flesh sheet. He took a deep breath before attempting to write out the neatest letters he had ever written in his whole life.

* * *

 

As it was the last day of the working week, Noctis had high hopes.

Friday would always be a good day in his book. Despite the four points on his wrist mocking him every time he looked at it, he tried to stay as positive as Prompto. The blond had cheered him on through his hellish homework, so Noctis had to repay him somehow by staying cheerful today.

Not that they had anything interesting to look forward to. While there was no gym, they had to deal with politics all morning. Noctis had thought Lucian politics were bad, but Niflheim was on a whole other level. He eventually did the same as he had done in his history lesson; zone out and stare out of the window. He had been lucky that their teacher didn’t care as much as the previous ones.

Both Gladio and Ignis were far away on the opposite side of the building. That was fine, because after lunch, Noctis and Prompto took the time to wander around.

“Down there is solitary confinement,” the blond said as he gestured to a sealed off corridor.

“How do you end up in there?” Noctis asked, shuddering at the thought.

Prompto chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. “Well, usually only the big things, like getting into fights. Or if you keep messing up after a bunch of warnings. I was in there for missing too much homework a few times. Not fun.”

Noctis had to wonder what other punishments they served at Vis Legis. So far, there was solitary, the water cell, and whatever the Chancellor had in store at the end of the point system. That wasn’t including the many times the guards slapped canes around.

“For how long?”

“A day? A week maybe?”

It was hard to believe anyone got anything done with the lengthy times they were kept in these torturous cells.

The two boys had finished their tour of the more obscure parts of the building before ending back in one of the main hallways. Noctis was slowly beginning to remember some places. The hall which lead to the cafeteria was filled with bulletin boards, and their cellblock was indicated by a lot of broken walls. If one took the time to remember the small things, then it got easier to navigate.

“Guess we should head back to class,” Prompto murmured as he glanced at a clock. “We have history and then languages.”

Noctis mumbled in response as he struggled with his front collar. Damn thing was choking him. He slipped his fingers between the buttons and undid the first two.

“Ugh, that’s better,” he breathed.

Prompto began to warn him. “You’d better do them up again in case—”

“Your Highness, you seem to be out of dress code.”

They whirled around to see Ardyn looming above them. When had he gotten here so quickly? The place had been almost deserted only a moment ago.

Noctis frantically began to defend himself. “Uh, well, I was too hot—”

The Chancellor tutted condescendingly. “No, this won’t do at all.” He reached over and gripped Noctis’ collar. The prince was too shocked to do anything but stand there as Ardyn refastened his top two buttons _for_ him.

Prompto gaped with an open mouth. Noctis just stared at Ardyn as he nodded in satisfaction. He then reached into his pocket and brought out a small back remote.

No, he couldn’t, not for _that_ —

A _beep_ rung out as he held it against Noctis’ bracelet, giving him his fifth point.

Ardyn beamed. “See you in my office.”


	5. A Pretty Young Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis receives his first punishment.

****Noctis stared at Prompto with wide eyes.

The Chancellor had walked away as quickly as he had arrived. Noctis glared daggers into his back as the man flounced his way down the corridors out of sight.

He couldn’t believe it. He’d been here five days, the first of which wasn’t even a full day, and they’d already done this to him. It wasn’t fair. Judging from the look on Prompto’s face, he assumed that it wasn’t normal to rack up five points in such a short amount of time. Had he just been unlucky, or were they holding a vendetta against him because his father was the King of Lucis? He assumed the latter.

The blond sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. “Fuck, man… I don’t…”

Noctis didn’t wait for him to finish. “What do I do now? Do I just… go to his office?”

“Yeah. He’ll give you a note excusing your absence from our lesson. Just… I don’t know, keep your head up.”

He nodded feebly. At first, he had shoved down his fear by claiming Ardyn didn’t frighten him, but that wasn’t really the truth anymore. The way that man looked at him, there was sadism in his eyes. His gaze was full of perverse malice.

As he was about to say goodbye to Prompto when the bell signalled the end of their break, Noctis heard him say one last thing. “And try not to move.”

...Whatever that meant. Noctis huffed as he tried to gather his dignity and marched away. If Ardyn was going to punish him, then he was going to have a hard time breaking him. Noctis had dealt with pain. It wasn’t a big deal to him, nothing he couldn’t handle.

Now, where _was_ the office?

The prince looked around. He was near the cafeteria, and from what he recalled from the tour on Monday, Ardyn had stopped at the office block _before_ the cafeteria. Thus, according to his location, he should be going north, to his left. He’d forgotten entirely that Ardyn had went that way. Noctis spun around and went back in the opposite direction. He remembered the thick black doors that were lined up in rows, so he kept an eye out for such decor. Eventually, after pacing his way around the long corridors, he found somewhere that matched his mental description.

They sure as hell didn’t seem like your usual offices. There were no windows on the doors and there were at least three locks on each one. Noctis scanned the name plaques. He passed Verstael Besithia’s, several more authority members that he hadn’t met yet, and then finally saw the name ‘Ardyn Izunia’.

The door loomed before him like a dark tower. He hesitated as his hand hovered over the handle. Should he just make a run for it? Should he go to his lesson as normal? Or should he hide in his cell and hoped that Ardyn would forget about it? No, Noctis thought wearily. He would never forget. Not with that look in his eyes as he held his remote to Noctis' wrist, only too eager to give him his fifth point. The man had been _waiting_ for this moment since he’d arrived. Holding his breath, Noctis rapped the back of his hand on the door three times.

“Enter,” came a muffled voice.

Ardyn gave him an almost friendly smile as he stepped in the office. Noct, staying quiet, inched his way inside and allowed the heavy door to close.

The room surprised him. Ardyn’s office was a lot more extravagant than much of the Vis Legis building. The floor was wooden, but underneath the desk was a plush rug. Oil paintings were hung on the walls, depicting rural landscapes and the Astrals. Funny, Noctis didn’t have him pinned as the religious type. Ardyn himself was lounging in his leather chair, feet propped up casually. A fountain pen hung loosely between his fingers as he stopped whatever he was doing.

“Ah, Noct. Come, have a seat.” Noctis pressed his mouth in a hard line as he sat in the chair opposite him. He kept his fists on his lap in apprehension. Ardyn chewed on his pen as he removed his legs from the desk. “Do tell me where the other two of those points came from.”

“They were accidents,” Noctis muttered.

“Like the other two?” Ardyn asked as he raised a brow in doubt.

“I… I had to destroy the MT we were using in training. It went berserk.”

Ardyn then nodded, almost in understanding. “I see. Chief Besithia _is_ very fond of his contraptions.”

Did that mean he had a chance of revoking his two undeserved points? Well, they were _all_ undeserved in his opinion, but Noctis knew he could only bargain so much. He learned forward. “So then will you excuse me?”

The Chancellor took the pen away from his lips as he looked directly at Noct. His expression was unreadable, face blank. Then, he laughed. A slow, deep, grating laugh that made Noctis recoil in anger.

“My, you are brave to ask _that_ of me.” Great. His plan failed, Noctis shrunk back in his seat and resumed his usual scowl. Ardyn then stood up and pushed the leather chair in so that it rested beneath the desk. The man turned and wandered off to the back of his office. Opening a cabinet, too low down for Noctis to see, he fumbled around and then turned back to him.  “My apologies, Noct, but you are not in Lucis anymore. This is Niflheim. We deal with our problem youth one way and one way only.”

Noctis watched as he continued to rifle through the cabinet but then stopped. Ardyn stood up, seemingly contemplating something, before he then made his way back to the desk.

“Now, take off your shirt.”

The prince’s scowl was wiped from his face. “... _What_?”

Ardyn frowned. “Take it off, unless you wish for me to take it off for you.”

Heart beating in his chest, Noctis slowly got to his feet. He maintained eye contact with the Chancellor as he reached for his top button. How fucking ballsy, the bastard had grabbed him and done _up_ his buttons only ten minutes ago. Now he wanted him shirtless? While inappropriate thoughts had danced across Noctis' mind for a moment, he then realised he was going to get caned. He remembered seeing Ravus’ bloody back on Tuesday. Fuck, was he going to end up like that?

Never taking his eyes away, Ardyn watched silently as Noctis undid the last button on his shirt and slowly shrugged it off his shoulders. He shivered. The office was far colder than it had been. He wrapped his arms around his bare torso.

“Good. Stand facing the wall.”

Noctis turned to see the wall that was to the left of the door. It was almost blank, unlike the rest of the richly decorated office. He swallowed thickly as he saw the faded brown stains on the floor. Blood, surely. He inched his way over and stopped a few feet away.

He listened as Ardyn opened up another cabinet, this one sounding like it was made of glass or metal. The lid slammed shut loudly as he took something out of it. Noctis dared to turn his head and instantly regretted it.

Within Ardyn’s grasp was a bullwhip. It curled around his hands like a viper, black and slender. If that ghastly thing was a viper, then it made the canes the teachers carried around look like stick insects.

Sighing as he threaded the whip around his fingers, Ardyn then pulled it away so it dragged onto the floor. “A shame, the last thing I want to do is flail your pretty flesh, but there are rules you must comply with, Your Highness.” As Noctis was staring at the whip in horror, Ardyn barked, “Turn around, boy. Do as I asked and face the wall.”

He was going to have to endure getting flogged, and Noctis couldn’t even see. Perhaps that was better. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if he didn’t know it was coming. Maybe—

All of those thoughts left his mind when a sickening _crack_ echoed through the room.

Jumping forwards, Noctis yelped in surprise when he felt the tail of the whip strike his shoulder blade. It was more the shock that had sent him reeling rather than the pain, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. His skin began to flare up in protest. Just as quick as the first one, a second came. Then a third, then a fourth. Noctis forced himself to keep his feet on the ground, doing his best not to arch away should Ardyn strike him harder. He propped his arms up on the wall for support.

At first, the pain wasn’t excruciating. It hurt, stung like any hard slap would, yet Noctis didn’t find it too hard to keep quiet. If he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, then he could handle it.

Until Ardyn reached his tenth stroke, then his eleventh, then his twelfth.

The prince’s mouth hung open in a gasp as he felt the whip strikes trail down from his shoulders down to the dip of his spine. He could sense exactly where it was hitting him, but when Ardyn began to make his way back up to his shoulders, it became harder and harder to really feel it. The burning increased tenfold when the lashes began to stack over each other. Noctis whimpered as they criss-crossed his back like stitching.

After the 20th strike, Noctis lost count. With a strangled gasp he slid to his knees, still using his hands to keep him up against the wall. Ardyn didn’t tell him to get back up so he didn’t, just holding his head down as he did everything in his power to hold on.

 _Crack, crack, crack_.

He could hear Ardyn’s deranged laughter over the sound of the bullwhip. How badly Noctis wanted to get out of the way, to give his burning back a break. It felt like his godsdamned skin was on fire. With each stroke, the feeling of flames licking his flesh and sinking deep into the welts made him almost scream.

When was this going to be _over_? He knew he was bleeding. Noctis could smell his own blood. He’d puke if he wasn’t in so much agony.

He didn’t know how long it had been, though Noctis knew he couldn’t take much more. This was different from any kind of pain he’d experienced. He’d been stabbed during training, punched across the face, bitten and scratched by daemons after taking too long of a stroll outside at night, but those did not compare. His back was being ripped open. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ardyn had torn off chunks of tissue with how hard he was lashing.

After what seemed like the 100th stroke, Noctis tossed his head and screamed, “STOP!”

To his shock, Ardyn did stop. Noctis could almost hear the smirk on his face as he replied, “I’m sorry, _what_ was that?”

Three lashes later, Noctis crumpled to the floor, sobbing. “Please, just _stop_.”

How embarrassing. He wasn’t literally crying, though his body heaved with the pain. He couldn’t stop himself from wheezing as he tried to dull the searing agony flaring across his back. His spine, especially, hurt the most. It hurt to even breathe.

Blessed by the gods, Ardyn finally put the wretched whip down. Noctis heard it thump against the desk. There was more rifling around in drawers, pages being turned and stationary tossed aside until Noctis felt Ardyn standing behind him. The Chancellor stooped down and cracked open a hi-potion over Noctis' flayed skin. There was instant relief.

“Good boy, Noct,” Ardyn purred. Noctis shuddered.

The prince felt himself being hauled up on unsteady legs. His entire body was trembling with adrenaline. Ardyn guided him over to the chair and sat him down, back facing him.

“I usually call for a medic for this part, but since you’re a special guest, I’ll do the honours myself.”

Was that supposed to be a _privilege_?

Noctis kept quiet as Ardyn cleaned up the blood dripping from his welts. Every touch felt invasive, always lingering on his skin longer than it should. He could feel Ardyn’s fingers dance gracefully over the wounds and across any untouched flesh. Was he actually cleaning him up, or was he fucking around?

Thankfully, the hi-potion was doing its job by sealing up any open wounds. It still hurt like a bitch, but now Noctis didn’t have to worry about blood dripping down his spine for the rest of the day, as long as he was careful. At least Ardyn had the kindness to do that for him. Well, not that it was _kindness_ , per se, more like human decency. Noctis had assumed he was finished but froze when he felt hands snaking up over his bare shoulders and down over to his collarbone.

He felt rather than heard Ardyn’s throaty chuckle against his neck. “You really are a fine young man, aren’t you?”

Okay, that was _it_. Noctis jumped up from his seat and whirled around even with the pain flaring up. Ardyn looked up at him innocently, still with that shit-eating grin on his face. Despite the fact he had not been bandaged or given any gauzes, Noctis reached for his shirt to wrap it around himself once more. Ardyn didn’t stop him. Gods, being shirtless was the worst, especially with Ardyn staring him down like a creep.

“I suppose I should write you a note of absence,” the man said as he stood up. He wandered around to his desk and sank into his leather chair once more. The whip laid next to him, covered in blood. Noctis waited impatiently. Why was Ardyn writing so damn _slowly_? When he finally handed him the note, Noctis had to stop himself from snatching it in his eagerness to get the fuck out of his office. “Give this to your professor.”

The prince spun on his heel and made a run for the door. Before he could reach it, however, Ardyn stopped him,

“Ah-ah-ah, I forgot something.”

Noctis clenched his teeth as he made his way over once again. What _now_?

He would have pressed himself against the door if not for his wounded back. He felt so small next to Ardyn, who loomed at an intimidating 6’2”. He reached for his left arm with a gentleness that had not been present when he was holding that whip. A dull beep sounded out when he held the remote to the bracelet, resetting the five points back to zero.

“There we are,” Ardyn said. “That’s better, isn’t it? Run along, then, Noct.”

The tone in his voice was so perverse that Noctis said nothing as he grabbed the handle and left the office, with no farewells given. The Chancellor watched him, an eyebrow raised.

He couldn’t stop trembling. Not only from the pain, but from how Ardyn had touched him and whispered that disturbing comment in his ear. It echoed over and over in his mind as he stumbled down the corridor. He didn’t know where he was going, just hoping that it was in the direction of the history department.

In all honesty, he felt violated. Was that too strong of a word? All Noctis had felt when Ardyn had forced him to strip and then flogged him until his back was raw was embarrassment, fear and humiliation. What was made worse was how the creep dared to linger his touch over places where he didn’t even _need_ to, yet did so because he _could_. Was he doing it because Noctis was the prince? Did he do that to everyone? Surely not, because he had been told he never bothers with anyone. So what had Noctis done to get his attention like that?

Noctis was so caught up his thoughts that he almost ran into someone in the hallway. Looking up, he saw a mess of white hair. Fuck.

“You again,” Ravus spat.

“Prince of Lucis, huh? You’re walking like you just got _fucked_ ,” the lackey standing next to him said. Looking to his right, Noctis saw a Niff sneering at him. He had dirty blond hair and was folding his arms in condescendence.

“You were in Chancellor Izunia’s office,” said Ravus, observing his posture.

His lackey laughed obnoxiously. “Is that what he’s doing now? Fucking princes?”

“I guess you’d know from personal experience,” Noctis said after a moment.

The Niff did a double take and lashed out to grip Noctis' collar. “You—”

“Loqi, leave it. We don’t have the time for him.”

What, Ravus was passing over a chance to have a go at him? There were no cameras in this part of the hallway. He could do whatever he wanted and then it would only be his word against his. Noctis glared at them, though didn’t say anything as they walked past.

The blond Niff, Loqi, stopped briefly. “We’ll have our turn at you, don’t you worry about _that_.” He hissed the last word and thumped Noctis' back— hard. He cried out and stumbled over.

What a bastard. Noctis struggled to steady himself after he’d been hit. He hadn’t fallen over, which was something, he supposed. He let out a huff and continued on his way, clutching his absence note so tightly the paper almost ripped.

Prompto had looked at him with worry as Noctis found the history room. The teacher rolled his eyes at his absence note though didn’t lecture him any further. He gestured for Noctis to sit down, which he had to do very, very carefully. By the way he positioned himself in his seat, everyone knew. He could hear sniggers. The lesson was spent by hunching over and trying not to touch anything with his back. It ached after a while, but when Noctis attempted to lean against his seat, he was met with a fiery burn.

“How, um, how did it go?” Prompto asked as they exited the classroom at the end of their lesson.

“What do you think?”

Laughing awkwardly, Prompto waved him off. “Yeah, dumb question. My bad.” As they awaited their languages professor, his roommate turned to him again. “Sorry about what you’ve had to go through. Everyone’s been picking on you this week. I’ve never seen anyone get five points so fast.”

So it _wasn’t_ normal? Go figure.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Noctis finally said, “I’m a prince of Lucis. Why wouldn’t they have it out for me?”

He spent their last lesson in silence. Prompto didn’t try to talk to him when they trudged back to their cell. He’d encouraged Noctis to get dinner, except the prince just wanted to lie on his bed, on his stomach, of course.

“I could try and sneak you something back?” Prompto had kindly offered.

“Don’t get yourself in trouble because of me. I’ll be fine, really.”

Was he fine? No. Noctis had never felt so miserable in his life. He forced the frustrated cries that wanted to tear out of his throat down as he shoved his face into the pillow. He missed his dad. He missed his old home. He missed the times when the war didn’t dominate his entire life.

Noctis hissed in pain as he accidentally moved his shoulder too suddenly. When was it going to heal? How was he supposed to do anything physical when it hurt so bad? Were they going to make him anyway?

He decided he didn’t want to think about it. Ignoring his empty stomach, Noctis forced himself to shut his eyes and sleep early.

* * *

 

“You must tell me, dear Verstael,” Ardyn drawled as he lay across a deep red sofa, “why _did_ you give the prince so many points?”

Verstael looked at him curiously from where he sat. The two men were alone in the staff lounge late that night, going over the week’s events. They had much to talk about since the prince’s arrival. Still, the Chief found that Ardyn had been… oddly on edge. He was always calm, level-headed and knew what he was doing. Lately, however, he couldn’t sit still.

“The boy has a sharp tongue. I only did what was necessary.”

Ardyn laughed as he delicately held his wine glass. “He told me that they were accidents.”

“Of course not,” Verstael scoffed. “Twice he spoke back to me, and the other was for the MT. I cannot have inmates destroying my hard work for no reason. They are not exactly cheap to produce.”

“I heard it was out of everyone’s control. Is that true?”

The blond man shifted in place. He took a long sip of wine, avoiding eye contact with Ardyn considering he had that knowing smirk plastered on his face. When he placed his glass down, Ardyn had sat up to cross his legs and was waiting for an answer.

“I left Highwind with them. She should have dealt with it better. Why? Do you think that point was undeserved?”

“Oh, no, no.” Ardyn waved his hand flippantly. “I have no complaints here. The more points, the better, really.”

It was Verstael’s turn to laugh. “You despise those Lucian royals, don’t you?”

“I have my reasons.”

The atmosphere in the staff room was far different to the rest of Vis Legis. There was finely polished oak furniture and leather sofas to enjoy, as well as actual carpets and painted walls. The walls were decorated with imperial flags and banners, stitched to act more as pieces of art rather than symbols. It was obvious to them that they would spend much of their funded money on luxuries for themselves, spending as little on the inmates as possible. They were here to suffer, after all.

Ardyn thought about it as he finished off his glass. He topped it up with the bottle of expensive red wine that was placed on the low table. If anything, alcohol only influenced his thoughts more. Ardyn sighed in content as he recalled the days events. The blood dripping down Noctis’ back, his pleading for him to stop—

“Not getting drunk already, are you?” Verstael’s deep voice sliced into his stupor like a knife to paper. Ardyn shot him a glare. Way to ruin the moment.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then what is it?”

The Chancellor sighed in exasperation as he stood up. Verstael really liked to ask questions. Or speak in general. It was a wonder he wasn’t rambling as much as he usually did, especially after two glasses of wine.

“Can I not be in a good mood without you questioning me?”

Verstael lidded his eyes in suspicion. “It’s just that you seem rather _enthralled_ with the prince.”

“You do have to admit that he’s a lovely creature,” said Ardyn with a smile.

The Chief grimaced. “Be careful you do not get caught. If the Emperor finds out, he’ll—”

“Verstael, when have I _ever_ been caught?”


	6. Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting into trouble with Loqi, Noctis finds himself in the dreaded water cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a warning, there is water torture in this chapter. skip over it if you need to.

A week had passed since Noctis’ brutal punishment.

The prince had awoken to his shirt sticky with dried plasma from his wounds for days. Even now, it still stung, but he could get around without hunching over. It was _something_ to work with. However, he had remained terrified over the past seven days that he would run into the Chancellor again.

Noctis spent hours looking over his shoulder in search of the maroon-haired man. He had been so paranoid that he went out of his way to learn his schedule. Since Ardyn was still the Chancellor of Niflheim, he was not present at Vis Legis for all five working days. He was here Monday, Wednesday and on occasion, Friday. As it was coming up to the second weekend Noctis had been here, he had thankfully yet to run into him today or during the past week, and he was grateful.

It wasn’t even about the caning. Noctis had gotten used to the fact every member of authority would beat him black and blue, but Ardyn was different. He took sadistic pleasure out of it. He had deliberately given him his fifth point just to speed up the process. The lust in his eyes, the way he had traced his fingers over his skin… _that’s_ what terrified him.

Besides from his fear, the week had gone better than the first. He had the same classes as before and did better to pay attention, not wanting to risk another build up of points. By Saturday, he was still at zero.

Noctis found that there was a rotation system for odd jobs on the weekends instead of classes. Stuff like laundry, cleaning, moving boxes, blah, blah. It didn’t seem like a big deal until he found himself stuck in front of a washing machine with no idea what to do. Noctis had never done laundry in his life. He’d never touched any cleaning supplies either. He was forced to awkwardly watch the other inmates press a series of buttons and try to copy them to the best of his ability. Prompto had been dragged somewhere else to mop up, so he couldn’t rely on him this time.

He tried pressing the cold wash button. Nothing happened. Becoming annoyed, Noctis resorted to angrily jabbing his finger against the button until _something_ worked.

A hand slid its way around him and pressed a button to the right. He looked over to see Ignis, Gladio’s roommate. “It may help you next time to turn the washing machine _on_.”

“Oh,” Noctis said. “...Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” replied Ignis as he turned back to his own pile of laundry. He eventually stopped as Noctis continued to fumble around with the machine. He sighed. “Would you like me to show you how to use it?”

“Please,” Noctis muttered.

It was beyond embarrassing to have someone show him the order in how to get things done. By the time Noctis had a vague idea of what to do, Ignis had practically finished his load of washing. He shifted his feet and tried not to blame himself. How was he supposed to know when he’d had servants do everything for him his entire life? One would think the guards would consider that.

He thanked Ignis once it was all done. He never would have succeeded in working the damn thing without help. He’d even shown him how to fold clothes in an acceptable manner after seeing Noctis' crumpled attempts. In the end, it had been Ignis that had done all of his work for him.

“Thank you, Ignis. It means a lot. Gods know how I’m gonna survive here.”

The older boy nodded. “It is no bother. Always a pleasure to assist the prince.”

Was he always this formal? Noctis watched as Ignis quickly finished what he had left in his pile. He was so fast doing both of their work that there were only three or four things left to be folded. He put them in the basket with such precision that Noctis ended up gawking. The man was like a robotic butler with how well he could cook and fold laundry. When he was finishing up, he gestured for Noctis to come help him with their second load that had already been left for them.

“It is wise to get the clothes flat before you begin folding them,” he instructed with a uniform jacket. Noctis awkwardly copied him, but he made a better job of it than his last few attempts.

“Aw, is your mommy helping you do your laundry?” came a jeering voice.

The prince turned to glare at Ravus’ henchman, Loqi, who was leaning against the door. There was a sneer on his face. Great. What a way to ruin his week. Noctis had only ran into Ravus a handful of times, most of which were met with blessed silence, though Loqi was easily worse. The stupid fucking Niff couldn’t keep his trap shut no matter where they were.

“Screw off,” Noctis spat as he then turned to forget him. Ignis glanced up and didn’t say anything.

“Don’t ignore me,” Loqi demanded as he stomped forwards. He towered over a kneeling Noct. “I still never got you back for that comment you made last week.”

Noctis smirked. “Hit a nerve, did I? Guess what I said was true.”

Loqi let out an animalistic growl as he yanked Noctis up by the collar. He winced, his healing wounds still sensitive. Ignis shot up like a bullet.

“There is no need for violence. Please release Noctis.”

To Noctis' delight, Ignis had slowly become more casual around him. They had only met on two or three other occasions before today, and while at first Ignis insisted on calling him ‘Your Highness’, he was eventually convinced to drop the formal act and call him by name. It was nice, it felt like he had some reliable friends here. He and Prompto had spent several nights staying up to talk, and Gladio was a great harasser repellent given how large he was.

He only wished Ignis could be around more often. They made a nice group. He looked up at him, seeing his stony expression hidden behind his glasses. Loqi only snorted in amusement.

“You want a piece of the action, Scientia?”

The Niff roughly shoved Noctis to the floor. He then lashed out to snatch the front of Ignis’ shirt. Ignis didn’t respond by pushing him away but he did manage to hold his ground. Noct, still in pain, tried to stand.

“Don’t think you’re tough because you’re starting to hang out in a group,” Loqi snarled. “We’ve got our _own_.”

Either Ignis couldn’t think of a reply, or he wasn’t bothered by Loqi’s confrontation. He did nothing even as Loqi shook him by the shoulders. Noct, tired of being weak and in pain from the last week, forced himself to get to his feet and pushed Loqi away.

“Hey, if you’ve got beef with me, then I’m right here. Leave Ignis out of it.”

Loqi was stunned as he stumbled backwards. He took a moment to right himself before he lunged forwards, pushing Noctis into one of the washing machines. He let out a cry as his back collided with the sharp edge of the machine. He hoped his wounds hadn’t reopened. He leaned forward, brushing air out of his eyes. Oh, so it was going to be like this, was it? As quickly as Loqi had lunged at him, Noctis lunged back. The Niff was sent flying out of the room.

Noctis didn’t let him get back up. Awkwardly positioned in between the hallway and the laundry room, he leapt on top of him to keep him still. Loqi twisted like a snake in an attempt to remove him.

“Get the fuck off me,” he hissed. When he couldn’t get Noctis to move, he swung his fist upwards and landed a punch to his jaw.

He winced. Was this guy really going to act like this? Starting shit for no reason? Noctis was the kind of guy that didn’t care so much if it was only involving himself, but bringing Ignis into this angered him. If they had a vendetta against him for being the prince of Lucis, then take it out on _him_! Grabbing Loqi’s fist as he tried to go for a second punch, Noctis threw one back.

“That is enough!” he heard Ignis cry. The taller boy grabbed him and began to pull him off.

“Always gotta be protected, don’t you?” wheezed Loqi as he kicked Noctis in the stomach. He gasped as he felt the air being knocked out of him.

“Let me go, Ignis! He’s the one starting shit with _you_!”

Ignis didn’t listen to his protests. “It does not matter. This doesn’t cause for any violence.”

Even with Ignis hauling Noctis away, Loqi was not finished. He rolled around so that he was on his stomach and then got up. He was in such a rage that he ended up making a dash for both of them, throwing them all back down to the floor in a pile. Noctis groaned at the searing agony that surged through his back. It was never going to heal at this rate.

Disorientated, Noctis heard Loqi laughing a few feet away. It seemed he had gotten to his feet while he and Ignis were still down. He was going to break this piece of shit’s _neck_ when he got a hold of him. He was close, even if Noctis' vision had gone blurry from falling over. Swinging his arm around, Noctis tightened his hand into a fist to make a collision for—

“What is going on—”

—Another man’s face.

The colour drained from the world when Noctis realised what he had just done. Loqi had pinned himself to the wall, well out of range. The one he had punched was no inmate. A middle-aged man, in a fancy guards’ uniform, contorted his face into fury. Blood had spurted from his split lip where Noctis had slugged him.

Oh, _fuck_.

“General Ulldor!” said Ignis in shock.

“General?” squeaked Noct.

Ulldor took his time in recovering from the blow, processing what exactly had happened. Meanwhile, Noctis was begging for the ground to _swallow_ him. He’d punched a figure of authority. Not just any guard either, a _General_.

“What do you think you’re _playing_ at!” Ulldor roared as he gripped Noctis by the throat, strangling him.

“I didn’t mean—” gasped the prince, “I was aiming for—”

“For somebody else? You think throwing punches is acceptable?” Ulldor finished for him. His grasp tightened. Loqi, still safely out of reach, laughed to himself at the scene. His laugh was cut short when Ulldor whipped around to glare at him. “You were a part of this too, weren’t you?”

He didn’t even bother to ask Ignis what had occurred. Releasing Noctis and then grabbing both him and Loqi, he promptly dragged them from the laundry room to the hallway containing the row of offices. At first, Noctis was scared he was going to throw them to Ardyn or maybe Verstael, except instead he shoved them inside his own.

It was a far smaller room than the aforementioned offices. There was a desk, a computer, and that was about it. General Ulldor threw Loqi so hard he hit the wall. Noctis managed to catch himself on the corner of the desk.

“Why were you fighting?” he began in a hostile manner, pacing the small area.

“He attacked my friend,” Noctis immediately said.

“I _didn’t_!” Loqi lied.

Ulldor threw his hands up. “You know what, I’m not interested. Guard! Take this one to solitary until I figure out what to do with him.”

Loqi’s blue eyes widened as the guards stationed outside took him by the arms and pulled him out again. If he protested, Noctis didn’t hear, too busy staring straight back at Ulldor. He really hadn’t meant to hit him. He shouldn’t have swung out his arm at all, considering he couldn’t see where it was going to land. He just hadn’t expected someone to come into the room so quickly—

The General took a moment to compose himself. The blood on his lip had dried as he ran his tongue across it, inspecting the damage. It looked like Noctis hadn’t slugged him too hard but that wasn’t the point. He was in deep shit and they both knew it.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Noctis made himself say. “I didn’t mean to hit you!”

Scoffing sharply, Ulldor turned his head away. “Whether you meant to or not is not the problem. You hit one of your superiors, you arrogant brat.”

“Are you… going to give me a point?” Noctis wouldn’t be surprised if the man gave him a full set of five after that.

“What? Heavens, no. Points are for minor acts of disobedience. This calls for more than that, _boy_.” A vicious grin flashed across his face. “To the water cell, with you.”

“The _what_ ?” Noctis cried out as the other guard took hold of him. Wasn’t that what Gladio and Prompto had told him about last week? Some seriously fucked up torture device? What had Gladio even _said_ again?

It seemed like Noctis was just going to have to find out. He was powerless to do anything as Ulldor followed them down a series of lengthy corridors, past the classrooms, past the cafeteria and out into the open. There were some small cubed buildings off to the side, Verstael’s mad scientist laboratory being one them. Most didn’t have windows, only horizontal gaps to allow light through. Where were they _taking_ him?

Nobody said anything to answer his internal questions. They stopped at one of the cubic buildings, this one small and made entirely of white plaster. Inside, it turned out to be a tiled room, much like what one would find in the changing room of a swimming pool. It reeked of chlorine and bleach. Noctis coughed as he inhaled the chemicals.

The guards pushed him forwards. “Take your clothes off, then.”

What, more stripping? Was this like the shower room? Noctis looked around. There really wasn’t much of interest. He could see a black out screen on one side of the room, and on the other side was what looked like a thin cubicle. It had the same tiled surface within it except for the grates on the bottom and the top. Odd shutters were built into the sides. He frowned and looked back to the impatient guards. He was about to argue before one raised a fist.

“ _Okay_!” Noctis said in exasperation. He reluctantly took off his jacket, shirt, shoes, socks and trousers. If this was a water cell, then he was likely to get wet. He supposed it would be better without his uniform sticking to him. He left his boxers on, however.

“That too.”

“No,” he said firmly.

The guard rolled his eyes but said nothing more. He edged around and widened the door to the cubicle. Noctis was then pushed inside the tiny space.

“The water will fill up for 90 seconds every ten minutes. Do not attempt to drown yourself. We will resuscitate you.”

“Wait, what do you mean? What’s going on?”

Ulldor chuckled lowly to himself. “Oh, I do so _love_ this part.”

What the fuck was going on? Noctis was going to ask more questions before the door was slammed in his face and promptly locked, leaving him in complete darkness.

He took a breath. The cubicle was only two or so feet wide, meaning he would not be able to lie down or sit comfortably. His feet scraped against the metal wire grating beneath him. It was too dark to see, though if he reached his arms up, he could also feel the grating above him. There were slits of light coming in from above, though it wasn’t enough to allow him to see. Forced to just stand there, naked and shivering, Noctis waited until he heard a loud whirring sound.

The shutters on the side flipped open to allow torrents of freezing water to pour through. He gasped at the temperature. Gods, couldn’t they have invested in some heat in this place? It felt like ice! It sloshed around his feet, harmless at first, but quickly grew to his calves, then his waist, and then right up to his chest. His scars burned.

Having water rapidly fill such a small space that he couldn’t escape from was fucking horrifying to say the least. Noctis felt his heart thud against his ribcage in fear, but he willed it to slow down because he was going to have to conserve as much oxygen as possible if he was going to get through this. He heard what the guard said. Gladio had said the same thing last Tuesday, his memory only now kicking in. They were going to repeatedly suffocate him.

When the water reached his chin, Noctis managed to lift himself up to press against the ceiling grate. From what he could make out, there was about a foot of space above it, so he assumed it was to allow a small gap of air. If only the damn grate wasn’t in the way! He clutched the wiring for dear life as the last inch of air was swallowed. No longer able to breathe, Noctis was then fully submerged in the murky darkness.

He couldn’t feel much besides from the water around him and the feeling of tiled walls closing him in. He wouldn’t have considered himself to be claustrophobic before, though he definitely would now. As the water dulled the noises around him, his heart was the only thing he could hear besides from himself groaning for oxygen. At first, he felt like he could manage. It was just 90 seconds, _just 90 seconds_. He could hold his breath for a good two minutes, he was sure. Except those meager 90 seconds felt like an hour with how scared he was. The seconds he counted in his mind ticked by agonisingly.

After the time was up, the shutters closed and the water was drained into the grate beneath him. Noctis gulped down air as soon as he was able. Once the water was drained, he sank to his knees. He spent the time focusing on breathing, truly appreciating oxygen for what it was. It wasn’t _good_ air, given that it was stuffy and full of cleaning chemicals, but it was _air_.

His ten minutes of sanctuary passed by quickly. Before he knew it, Noctis felt the cold water begin to rise for a second time. He jumped up and waited for the inevitable. For the second time, he pushed against the grate above him to get as much air as possible before he went under.

Then it repeated. A third time, a fourth time, a fifth.

Noctis' lungs were aching by the time the water drained for the _sixth_ time. When he did the math in his head, he figured out that he’d been in this hell cubicle for an _hour_ . When was it going to be over? Prompto had said he had been here for two days, and Gladio for four. _Four_ days! If they were going to leave him in here for that long, then Noctis decided he would claw his way out. The past hour had been horrific, his lungs hurting more and more, his body starved for its vital air.

He whined in desperation when he heard the familiar whir and clanking of the shutters opening and the water pouring out. This would be the seventh time. He’d do _anything_ to get out of here. He’d kiss the fucking General’s boots if that’s what the old fucker wanted. Noctis very much valued his pride, yet his life he valued more. If he had to die, then it wasn’t going to be in some shitty cubicle in a Niflheim bootcamp.

He held his breath as the water rose above his eyelids. It was so cold that he had long stopped shivering. The smell of chlorine was almost normal to him by now. Once again, he began to count upwards from one to 90.

Except, when he got to 90, the shutters did not close. Panic rushed through him. Why weren’t they closing? He _knew_ he had counted right!

The gruelling 90 seconds slowly ticked into 100, then 110. If Noctis' lungs were aching before, then they were on fire now. He slapped a hand to his mouth to stop himself from accidentally inhaling. He couldn’t die in here. He couldn’t. Was that the plan all along? Did they bring him here just to kill him in such a horrible way?

When the shutters still refused to close, Noctis pounded his fist against the door. It was slow and sluggish, but he kept hitting it. He had to get out. He pulled at the grating above him and kicked at the grating beneath him. He tried to force the cursed shutters closed, however, they were made of steel. The door wouldn’t move either, obviously.

Noctis wavered when his vision began to blur. Not that he could actually see anyway, yet he knew he was beginning to drown. He instinctively took in a sharp breath, regretting it when searing pain shot through him. He could hardly describe the sensation of water filling his lungs. He thrashed with what little energy he had left after the past hour, desperately pounding on the door to be saved. His father wouldn’t even know about this! He wouldn’t know that he had died!

He didn’t know what to think of in his final moments. Just as Noctis was about to finally slip under, there was an enormously loud shudder as he felt the cubicle shake. Must have been his imagination. Any second now—

—The door swung open. All of the water rushed out, bringing Noctis with it.

Spluttering and gasping, he fell to the tiled floor as he tried to hack the water out of his lungs. Far too much of the stuff spurted from his mouth and onto the ground. What the hell had _happened_?

“Whoops, sorry about that. Shutters jammed,” came the taunting voice of General Ulldor. The fucking shutters had malfunctioned? Noctis turned his head to glare at the son of a bitch. He merely shrugged.  “Well, I _was_ going to keep you in there for the rest of the day, but I think you’ve probably learnt your lesson, hm? Get dressed and back to your cell. I’ll find something else to punish you with another time.”

Noctis didn’t have time to argue before he was hauled to his feet and had a towel thrown at him. He snatched it and wrapped it around his frozen body.

That had to be the worst thing that had ever happened to him, besides losing the war and all. Even the caning he had received from Ardyn wasn’t like that. Sure, the guy was creepy and it had hurt, though at least he could still breathe. It hadn’t been nearly as long as the time he had been subjected to in the wretched water cell. He hoped he’d never have to go back in there. He wouldn’t be able to cope again.

He was quick to get his clothes back on. The last thing Noctis wanted was to stay here. He didn’t need escorting out, bolting for the cell block as fast as his shaking legs could carry him. His wet hair was stuck to his face, but he didn’t care.

Prompto was already in their room by the time he arrived. The blond looked up, surprised. “Whoa, where have you been? Thought you would have been done ages ag—”

The prince didn’t respond. He darted into the bathroom after grabbing a fresh pair of boxers considering the ones he was wearing were soaked through. He changed, as well as replacing his uniform trousers. Gods, that was better. Anything to be warm and dry once more. He even ran a brush through his hair to get it out of his eyes. Prompto was waiting patiently on his bed for when Noctis exited.

“Noct?”

“Water cell,” Noctis whispered.

“Oh, gods, fuck—” Prompto blurted out. He held his hands to his mouth in shock. “Wait, seriously? _Why_?”

It took several long moments for Noctis to recover. He flopped onto his bed and focused on breathing. In, out, repeat. He still coughed now and again to get the remaining droplets of water out of his system. Never again.

“Long story short, Loqi picked a fight with me and Ignis. I tried to punch him back but I ended up hitting General Ulldor in the face. He put me in that shit box for an hour.”

“You… you punched the General?”

“It was an accident,” Noctis grumbled.

Prompto rubbed the back of his neck as he took in the new information. “Jeez… surprising he didn’t put you in there longer. You good?”

He waved a hand. He was too tired to talk. Noctis turned over, keeping his breathing deep and steady. He was glad Prompto didn’t push him for more answers. He trembled, both from adrenaline and from being cold. The absolute feral panic he had felt was comparable to nothing. How? How had Prompto and Gladio survived for so long in there? How did they manage it without accidentally breathing in or dying from all of the oxygen starvation later down the line?

Vis Legis was fucked. Noctis knew that anyway, but that was inhumane. He wouldn’t wish that upon either Ravus or Loqi. Now that he was having to deal with them, Ardyn and now the General who would have it out for him no matter what he did, Noctis began to doubt himself. It had been two weeks. Only two! How was the rest of the year going to progress when there were so many people who wanted him to suffer? Two of which he couldn’t even say no to.

He threw a hand over his face. For now, get through the weekend. He’d think of what to do next on Monday.

There came a knock on the door. Prompto stood up to answer it. If it was a guard, why didn’t they just enter?

“Ignis!”

Noctis snapped his eyes open. There stood Ignis in the doorway, looking solemn. “Oh, thank goodness, Noctis is alright. I got worried when I couldn’t find him.”

Prompto smiled weakly. “Uh, heard he was in the water cell.”

“What? Are you alright?”

The prince nodded. “Yeah. I’ll live.”

After Prompto allowed Ignis into their cell, he leant against the far drawer and pushed his glasses back into place with a sigh. He seemed tired. “I’m sorry all of that happened. If only I hadn’t been there…”

“Hey, that wasn’t it!” Noctis said as he shot up. “It was Loqi’s fault. We just happened to be in the same room as him. Besides, he’s in solitary, anyway.”

“Good,” said Prompto. “Solitary’s not much nicer.”

Was anything really _nice_ here? From what Noctis knew about prisons, solitary was a room where you were kept on your own for a while. He’d take that over the horrors of the water cell. Sure, one would get bored fairly easily, yet that beat almost drowning. He shuddered at the thought.

“I had a quick word with Gladio just now,” Ignis continued. “We’re concerned about Ravus and company. They’re beginning to cause quite a bit of damage, especially to you, Noctis.”

“And what can _we_ do?” Noctis mumbled into the pillow.

“Well, we are aware complaining about it will not help, but Gladio is insistent on solving the matter ourselves. Without any fighting.”

Noctis laughed dryly. “Yeah, that’ll go down well.”

“Whatever he has in mind, won’t we end up in trouble?” asked Prompto.

“I don’t know. We’ll need some time to discuss things. In the meantime, Noct, do recover.”

Well, he’d try to. Noctis didn’t say goodbye as Ignis left. He didn’t even know what time it was, but he wanted to go to sleep. They had a single barred window in their cell, and from the looks of it, it was still the afternoon. Plenty of time to catch some hours, then. As he was about to get comfortable, someone else shot into their room.

What was it now? Noctis was going to address Ignis before he saw that it was a guard. “Noctis Lucis Caelum, you still haven’t finished your chores for today,” he ordered.

He withheld a groan. _Kill me._


	7. Joys of a Cruel Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being made to watch a gruesome punishment and having the Chancellor getting too close for comfort, Noctis comes closer to his breaking point.

Ardyn flounced his way down Vis Legis’ grungy hallways. It was the Wednesday of Noctis’ third week. He had been counting.

Ignoring Verstael’s constant words of warning, he thought about their next encounter. Of course, there were many other boys he found appealing, easy targets considering this place was full to the brim with agony and suffering to tip them beyond their limits. Verstael’s cloned son was one of them, but Noctis was different. He was special. Perhaps it had something to do with their lineage, or that he _was_ the chosen king destined to slay him, though Ardyn liked to keep things simple. For now, Noctis was attractive and easily wound up, and that was plenty.

He’d already heard from Ulldor about his time in the water cell. Ardyn would have considered himself surprised, yet then he remembered that Noctis had a giant target on his back due to his status. A few scuffles were to be expected. The Chancellor had read the report in writing rather than listen to Ulldor talk; the fool was a bore. He’d found the incident amusing and _convenient_. At first, Ardyn wasn’t sure if it had been a good thing, but the more torture the prince got a taste of, then the easier it would be to condition him.

It was the first rule of emotional manipulation. Ardyn scolded himself for not realising it straight away. Take away everything they have so they have no choice except to turn to you. Sow the seeds of doubt and conflict and reap the rewards in due time, and sow he did.

Actually waiting for the rewards as another thing. Ardyn considered himself a patient man in the past, but that was then, and this was now. He’d struggled to hold himself back during Noctis’ first punishment. His intentions had been to play things out slowly, to savour the moment, though he simply couldn’t stop his fingers from wandering. He shuddered at the memory.

On his way to his office, he realised that today was the day Verstael had Noctis for his entire schedule. He might have been jealous in any other scenario, but Verstael knew of his motives, and as perhaps the cruelest officer in Vis Legis, Ardyn could trust him to inflict the pain that needed to be inflicted. In fact, he would enforce it.

“Be kind to him,” Ardyn hummed once he settled into a conversation with the scientist. He had his arms wrapped around his neck, oblivious to Verstael’s discomfort. “Give him the luxury of being one of us if the time calls for it. Power will change anyone.”

He was aware of Ravus. It took no genius to see that the young man from Tenebrae loathed Lucis for losing to Nilfheim. He had been causing problems ever since the war ended. Even that worked in Ardyn’s favour, because now Noctis was being attacked from another direction. It served as a wall to further corral him to where Ardyn wanted him, to make more excuses for Noctis to be punished or even praised. It was the moment that kept him impatient, constantly shifting in his seat or pacing his office, as Verstael had pointed out, though Ardyn was willing to take his time.

After all, good things came to those who waited.

* * *

 

This week, it was back to working with MT parts. Noctis held the metallic shaft in his hand, completely confused.

What were they even supposed to be building? According to the blueprint, it was a part in the abdomen, a system designed to keep the core from overheating. He thought it would be simple, because usually such parts consisted of fans, but this was some bizarre new technology Noctis had never laid eyes on. He would have asked Gladio, though he was subjected to a different schedule today. Half of the usual class were gone and replaced with others, unfortunately including Ravus.

Scowls had been exchanged between the two of them at the start of the lesson. There was no Loqi in sight, so that was one thing he didn’t have to worry about. Hopefully he was still in solitary. Noctis kept close to Prompto for the hour, watching as whatever he had tried to built fell apart again.

“I’m never gonna get this right!” Prompto whined. Noctis put the shaft down.

“Maybe if we just… start with this piece.” He took what seemed to be the outer parts of the cooling system, though then he realised he wouldn’t be able to fit all the smaller bits inside. Back to square one, then. He once again reached for the shaft that was drawn out in the instructions. Then after taking the required tool, tried to fix other pieces of metal to it.

Their professor was at his desk, concentrating deeply on drawing out a blueprint. Verstael had barely looked up the entire lesson. He must have been the one to draw out the ones that the class had to use. While they were very intricate, there was so much detail it was hard to tell what part was what. Most of it looked so similar that Noctis had screwed in the wrong bolt on more than one occasion. Since Verstael was busy, he had not been bothered about correcting anyone’s work.

“I wish Gladio were here,” said Prompto. “He’d know what to do with all of this mess.”

That was true enough. Noctis was fairly confident the guy could put things apart even without the blueprints. He hoped the rotations weren’t going to be forever. With neither him nor Prompto not knowing what to do, they had no chance of getting decent marks. Did Noctis actually care about his grades? Not at all, but he did care about what punishment he would get if he failed.

The scars on his back had only just stopped hurting constantly. They were still very much visible, however. When it was time to shower, he did his best to hide them, but what was the point? He now blended in quite nicely amongst all the others. It wasn’t only more scars he had to worry about, there was that fucking awful water cell he had been stuck in last Friday, and who knew what else. He was lucky that Ulldor decided to give him a point instead of anything worse. Thus, the vicious cycle of points began once again.

Noctis' thoughts were broken when the sound of metal clanging to the floor echoed throughout the room. Someone at the far end had dropped their half-finished cooling system. Verstael, more irritated by the interruption than anything else, slammed his pen down.

“You imbecile,” he growled.

The young man, clearly not a Niflheim native judging from his voice, tried to defend himself. “It slipped out of my hands, sir! I was adding this part here when—”

Verstael held a hand up. “Silence! The sound of your appalling accent is making my gorge rise.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “Don’t touch anything. I’m not letting valuable equipment go to waste.”

What he was going to do about it, Noctis didn’t know. The glass was shattered and anything that wasn’t solid metal was in pieces. He vaguely heard Verstael rambling about needing to fetch something to clean it up before he left the room.

The room let out a groan of relief once he was gone. Almost everyone got up to stretch their legs, tired from training in the morning and now cramped from being stuck inside a lab since lunch. Prompto jumped up and raced around the table to inspect the damage.

“Nice going, Dino,” he sniggered.

Dino, the one who had dropped it, merely grinned. “What can I say? I don’t care about Niflheim’s robot schtick.”

Noctis laughed lightly. He could agree on that. Since everyone else was wandering around, he decided to get up and join Prompto. He surveyed the wreckage on the floor. Yikes, it looked more like Dino had thrown the thing to the ground judging by the way it had been smashed beyond recognition.

Dino lifted his head up at the sound of his chuckle and his eyes widened. It seemed he had been recognised. “Yo, aren’t you the prince of Lucis everyone’s been talking about?”

“S’up.”

Everyone’s eyes trailed onto him. Nothing that Noctis wasn’t used to, but it was still kind of embarrassing. Nobody had really said much to him since his arrival, besides from the officers and Ravus’ gang. Maybe it was because of intimidation, or disinterest. Then again, everyone sure seemed to interested in him now.

“Damn! Can’t believe you ended up here. Name’s Dino.” He stretched out his hand across the table. Noctis leant forwards to awkwardly shake it.

“Prince of Lucis, indeed,” said a sarcastic voice. Ravus scoffed from where he stood, which was next to the middle table. Noctis slowly turned to glare at him. What did the prick want now? Hadn’t Loqi harassing him and Ignis last week been enough? Ravus ignored his nasty look and continued to take jabs at him. “ _He’s_ the offspring of the failure who is the reason why we’re all stuck here.”

“Don’t talk shit about my family.”

Ravus let out a grating chortle. “I’ll say whatever I want.”

Dino stood up and stepped over the broken machinery to get in between them. “Alright, let’s cut it out, boys.” As he was fairly well built, Ravus did not make a move to shove past him. He was taller, and probably the better fighter since Noctis had seen his skills firsthand, but even he knew it wouldn’t be wise to start a brawl in a cramped laboratory. He sniffed as he turned away, most likely returning to his seat.

It was that moment when everyone decided to get back to their places. Verstael had been gone a few minutes, meaning he would return any second now. The break was nice, at least, and Dino seemed like a decent guy from their short interaction. Noctis gave a nod of thanks to him. Dino nodded back.

“Guess we should try figuring out that contraption now, huh?” Prompto said as a way to lift the tension.

“I’ll have another read of the blueprints. Maybe we missed something.”

Before Noctis could get to his seat, however, he suddenly found Ravus to the side of him. As he turned, he saw a flash of blue within Ravus' hand before his arm jerked.

Noctis couldn’t even yell in surprise as he felt the cold splash of liquid on his face. Ravus, clutching a now empty test tube, smirked in satisfaction.

Prompto gasped. The cupboards lining the ceiling had been opened to reveal many colourful liquids stored away in boxes. While the labels were unreadable from this distance, they saw the many warning symbols. The lunatic had actually thrown _chemicals_ at him. Noctis glanced down to see blue fluids dripping from his face, his hair and his neck and into the white fabric of his uniform.

“What the _fuck_ —” Noctis started to shout.

They all heard Verstael letting out a cry of horror from the other end of the room. Ravus, in a panic, whirled around yet it was too late to hide what he’d done. Great timing.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the Chief roared. He rushed forwards, the broken machinery he had been so worried about now entirely forgotten, and grabbed Ravus by the back of the collar. Yanking him backwards, he hissed in his ear. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just _done_?”

Everyone was staring. Verstael, without hesitating, then yelled the order for everyone to leave. Prompto flicked his eyes between Noctis and his father, hesitant to leave, but quickly got a move on when he caught sight of Verstael’s deadly gaze. It wasn’t as if Noctis could say much to him anyway, because Verstael already had a hand on his shoulder to drag him towards the small shower at the back of the lab.

“Quickly, rinse it off.”

At least this shower had _some_ privacy. As the chemicals had only touched his head and chest, Noctis just took off his jacket and shirt. As he stuck his head under the cold water, he heard more shouting and arguing.

Verstael snatched the test tube from Ravus and glanced at it. He then moved his eyes from the tube to the beaker that was lying on the table, now only half full. Upon reading the label, he let out a deep breath.

“You can both thank your lucky stars that this is not harmful.” Noctis felt his entire body relax. Thank fuck. Ravus remained silent, with his eyes staring forwards blankly. Verstael almost crushed the tube in his hand from anger, but instead proceeded to throw it at Ravus’ head. He flinched as the glass shattered over him. “You absolute fool! What is wrong with you?”

“...It was only a joke.”

“A joke?” Verstael repeated, venom laced through his words. “You think potentially marring your classmate for life is a _joke_?”

“I checked the label!” Ravus protested.

It seemed Verstael didn’t want to continue listening. He roughly shook Ravus before spitting, “Go to my office. I will be joining you with the prince shortly.”

Ravus left the room without arguing further. Good fucking riddance, Noctis thought as he scrubbed the remainder of the liquid from his hair. It didn’t exactly hurt, though he felt a light tingling where it had touched his skin, and his eyes had reddened in irritation. He gently rubbed at them before getting out and drying himself. He snatched up the spare uniform laid out for him.

“Are you alright?” Verstael asked. Was that _concern_ in his voice? Were the chemicals kept in the cabinets that dangerous? Noctis shook the thought from his mind. Of course they were dangerous. They were ingredients to make killer robots. Noctis nodded in response. “Good. Your eyes might sting for a while, but you should be fine. If you experience any other side effects, go straight to the medic.”

Eyes burning and hair wet, Noctis followed Verstael all the way to his office. He saw his class waiting outside, Prompto eagerly trying to get a glance of him. Noctis threw him a thumbs up to let him know he was alright. His friend beamed back. Gods, what would Noctis do without friends here? In less than three weeks, he had been flogged, punched, caned, drowned and drenched in chemicals. There was nowhere else to _turn_.

By the time they reached the office block, Verstael was almost trembling in rage. Ravus was waiting outside. He gave Noctis a sharp look though remained quiet. Throwing the door open, Verstael gestured for them to get inside. Most of his anger was correctly directed at Ravus, but it seemed like the man didn’t particularly care where his fury landed so long as it was out of his system.

The office was luxuriously decorated like Ardyn’s despite being filled with electronic equipment. Pinning Ravus to the wall, Verstael began to scream until both of them were clutching their ears. Noctis flinched whenever he slammed his hand against the desk or waved his arms around like a madman. It was good to see Ravus finally getting shouted at, except Noctis really just wanted to get back to the lesson and be out of his presence.

“I knew they weren’t dangerous, sir,” Ravus muttered in a last ditch attempt to save his skin.

“You can hardly tell what the chemicals do until they react to something! You could have killed him!”

Ravus cowered as Verstael smacked him upside the head. Noctis winced. With his armoured gauntlets, that had to have hurt. “Ravus, for disrupting my lesson, I will be giving you a _week_ in the water cell.”

An entire week? Noctis felt his heart lurch at the mention of the dreaded place. He had only been in there an hour and a half, though it was one of the worst things he had ever experienced. How was Ravus supposed to survive a week? He almost felt sorry for him. His chest tightened when Verstael continued. He was nowhere near finished.

“But first,” he drawled, “a personal punishment. You, Noctis. Open that cupboard and fetch me the tool on the left.”

The prince turned his gaze over to the far side of Verstael’s office. There was a black display nailed onto the wall. Noctis slowly crept towards it, stiff under Verstael’s fixed stare, and went to open the cupboard.

He didn’t know why he was surprised to see a series of torture instruments. Ranging from tasers to floggers, Noctis grimaced at the horrible sight. There were some things that he couldn’t recognise and didn’t even want to, too afraid of what the answer would be. Still, he did as he was instructed and reached for the tool on the left. His fingers froze as they hovered above it. A cat o’ nine tails.

The gruesome whip was cool to the touch, made out of tightly braided leather. Noctis could count every tail, each one ending with a sharp crystal of sorts. The label underneath read ‘Diamond Weapon’. Verstael smiled, pleased as Noctis handed him the whip, and turned back to Ravus.

“Can I leave now?” Noctis asked.

“If you like, you can watch.”

The Chief leant against the desk, twirling the cat o’ nine tails in his hands as he awaited Noctis' answer. Ravus remained motionless.

Swallowing, Noctis looked down. “Um, I’d rather not—”

“Oh, come now,” Verstael tutted almost playfully. “Why not? This is the one that’s been harassing you ever since you arrived. Why _wouldn’t_ you want to see him in pain?”

Noctis couldn’t believe he had actually suggesting it. He looked between the whip and Ravus. It was true, Ravus _had_ been a pain in the neck this entire time, and if he was being honest with himself, seeing him get punished was a tempting offer. If the chemicals he had thrown at him had been dangerous, then Noctis could be dead or scarred beyond recognition. Ravus didn’t seem entirely sorry, either. His eyes burned like the sting of ice.

Eventually, he came to a decision. He loathed how Ravus had treated him, but he was no sadist. “No thanks, sir.”

Verstael frowned in disapproval. He placed the whip on the desk and straightened himself to his full height, glaring down at Noctis. Up close, it was like looking at an older Prompto with hardened features and a cruel demeanor. The Chief tensed his jaw.

“I know it was him who sabotaged the MT two weeks ago,” he suddenly said. Noctis' eyes widened. “I checked the security footage. It seems this fellow _wants_ you to to suffer. Make the right choice, Your Highness.”

He was not good at pretending. Noctis knew he was toying with him, the sneer on his face made that beyond obvious. He had found out the truth of that day, yet he still did nothing about it until now. The prince glowered.

“Why do you care?”

He was surprised that Verstael did not shout. Instead, he leant back. “A true soldier takes what’s his. I know you have that potential. Now, stand and observe _._ ”

It looked like the choice he had just offered had turned into an order. Noctis had no option but to stand back and cringe as Ravus was ordered to go through the routine of taking his shirt off and standing with his back towards them. He was quite a bit thinner than how he appeared with his jacket on, and his pale skin was absolutely _littered_ with scars and what looked like burn marks. There were bruises, both old and new, snaking along his arms, his neck and down to where the rest of his clothes hid. Most of it would never fade.

The cat o’ nine tails was lashed through the air. Noctis squeezed his eyes shut as the many tails came into contact with Ravus’ back, instantly drawing blood. Every individual snap could be heard above Ravus’ pathetic yelp. He then heard another strike, and then that turned into ten more.

It was far worse than what Ardyn had done. The cat o’ nine tails was brutal, the gems sewn into the ends sharp enough to leave horrific slashes that bled furiously. Even after Ravus’ entire back was turned into a pool of red, Verstael did not stop. It only inspired him to strike harder.

Ravus, warped into a howling mess, sank to his knees and turned around so that his back was away from the strokes of the whip. He held his hands up as Verstael lashed it over his head and bare chest.

“Remove your arms, fool!” he snapped. As soon as he did, nine red lines were embedded along Ravus’ collarbone. More lashes sliced into his cheek and forehead. He was lucky none had hit him in the eye.

It was horrible. Noctis had barely watched any of it, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not block out the horrific screams and maniacal cackling. He was glad it wasn’t him on the receiving end, though hearing it play out in front of him wasn’t much better. When Verstael was finally finished unleashing his anger, Ravus was almost unconscious. Noctis cracked open one eye to take a look, only to see a battered form of the man that had been looming before him just half an hour ago. If someone like Ravus could break here, then he was surely done for.

Pleased with his work, Verstael turned back to Noctis, bloodied whip still clenched in his hand. “How does it feel to see him like this, hm? Satisfying, I’m sure.”

Noctis didn’t answer. Verstael thankfully did not press for one and called for a medic to drag Ravus away.

“The Chancellor will be notified. Noctis, you may return to class.”

He bolted from the room. Except Noctis did not return to class. No, he went straight for the emptiest hallway he could find and pressed himself into a corner.

He was shivering. Seeing all that blood pooled on the floor with Ravus’ broken form in the middle sent pure horror racing through his bloodstream. His heart pounding madly only served to make him feel even more jittery. It wasn’t only the sight that made him queasy. It was the sickly scent of iron, the sound of agonising wails overlapped by joyful laughter. The whole time, Noctis could only imagine himself back in the Chancellor’s office, helpless as Ardyn tortured him. Was he getting a flashback? It had only occurred a week and a half ago.

Ragged breaths came from his nose as he held a hand up to quiet himself. He felt like he was going to throw up. Why, _why_ had Verstael forced him to watch that display of violence? What was the point?

He’d probably stayed here for long enough. By now, Verstael would be returning to the lab. As much as Noctis wanted to go back to his cell to process what he had been made to endure, he knew he couldn’t afford to. Not after that. So, inhaling sharply and salvaging whatever composure he had left in him, he went to leave the dark corner.

“Oh, whatever are _you_ doing back here?”

Noctis stopped dead. In front of him was the person he wanted to see least of all. Ardyn looked down at him curiously, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Spluttering for an excuse, Noctis struggled to speak with the feeling of his heart in his throat. “Um, I— I was just—”

“You weren’t _hiding_ , were you, Noct?” Ardyn sounded smug.

Oh, gods, fuck, not _this_. With everything that had happened recently, drowning in the water cell, watching Ravus be tortured, Noctis knew he couldn’t handle any more of Ardyn’s bullshit.

“I just— I just needed a break—”

Ardyn chuckled lowly. “Chief Besithia told me everything. Did seeing Ravus receive his punishment upset you that much? You still feel feel for him despite his treatment of you? You truly _are_ a soft-hearted boy.”

Since Ardyn bordered on the line in between sincerity and insincerity, it was too difficult to tell what he was implying. They had to be fucking with him. Noctis knew these men weren’t nice, so why were they speaking to him like that? What was with this fake praise, the coddling, the encouragement to act out their sadistic tendencies? He knew there had to be some kind of underlying goal, but _what_?

He still couldn’t say anything. He was about to slide past Ardyn and race back to the laboratory before he stuck out his arm to stop him.

“I have to get back to class,” he whispered, an octave higher than normal.

“You didn’t seem in such a hurry a moment ago,” said Ardyn. “Besides, I wasn’t finished.”

Noctis was powerless to stop the Chancellor from guiding him back to the corner he had been pressed into just moments ago. He frantically looked around. There was no way to escape unless he ducked under Ardyn’s arms, yet there was no way that was happening. He tensed when he felt his back hit the wall. _Fuck_.

Ardyn was so close Noctis could feel his warm breath. He suddenly felt very hot, suffocated by his own uniform and the proximity of the man before him.

“I knew you would end up in another incident before long, so I made sure the Chief would handle it accordingly. Normally, he would never have an inmate watch a punishment, but since I _encouraged_ him to...” Ardyn muttered.

What, Ardyn was the one behind it? How had he known that Ravus would act out? Noctis furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What? How did you even know that would happen?”

Why was he acting like this? Ardyn’s breathing was faster than it should have been, his eyes clouded over as he looked over Noctis' form. They were unfocused yet so intense that they gleamed in the dull light.

“Oh, I didn’t. Consider it careful planning for future possibilities. It’s for you to _learn_ from the best. It is time to discard the ways of Lucis and adopt those of Nifheim.”

Noctis was going to make himself say something before Ardyn let out a growl that rumbled from the back of his throat. Pressing himself right up against him, he buried his head in the crook of Noctis' neck.

The prince squeaked. He grabbed Ardyn’s wrists as his hands trail down his sides, though of course, he wasn’t strong enough to push him away, not even if he tried. He shuddered as he then felt him mouth at his neck.

“Wait—” Noctis tried to say before his sentence was cut into a whine when Ardyn rolled his hips against him. He would have crumpled to the floor in shock if it wasn’t for the weight of Ardyn’s body keeping him in place. His legs trembled as Ardyn stood firmly between them. He recoiled in disgust as he heard him groan deeply. “Noooo…”

“Yesssss,” Ardyn hissed back.

Removing his hands from Ardyn’s wrists, Noctis moved them to push against his sides as he was practically dry humped against the wall. He knew the guy was a creep who _maybe_ had a thing for him judging from his actions last time, yet _this_ was a step too far. What was he _doing_ ?! Noctis didn’t know if it was the paralysing fear that was making him feel like this, but it felt _strange_. He winced at every time Ardyn pushed against him. If only he had his magic.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Ardyn pulled away, allowing Noctis to stumble forwards. His eyes glazed back into focus as he blinked.

“Well, I suppose you’d better be on your way,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to be late, now would we?”

Noctis stared at him, terrified. Ardyn did not look fazed in the least, flicking his hair out of his eyes as if what he had just done never happened. He stepped back and gestured for the prince to get going. His smirk had long gone, except his expression still unreadable. At first, Noctis inched forwards, not sure if Ardyn was going to pull something again, but the Chancellor remained where he was.

Racing down the hallway, forcing the screams of frustration down, Noctis did not look back.


	8. Oh, You Foolish Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis feels regret when his actions affect his friend, pushing him to beg the Chancellor to reconsider the punishment intended.

****For a long time, Noctis could not calm his raging mind. Feelings ranging from fear to crippling paranoia whipped around like a tornado, preventing him from focusing on anything logical. His brain hurt from the sheer force of his emotions.

He had not seen Ardyn much since their last intimate encounter. Noctis would see him occasionally in the hallways, strutting about like a bird. If they made eye contact, Ardyn would simply smirk. Noctis could not do much else except pretend he hadn’t noticed for his own sanity. What was he supposed to do? Smile back? Say hello? He didn’t know what the creep expected from him.

After he had been shoved up against the wall last week, Noctis had made a beeline for the laboratory. He spent the rest of the lesson in complete silence, not saying anything to a worried Prompto. It wasn’t as if he enjoyed bottling it up, but what was Prompto meant to do about it? Ardyn was the most powerful man in this building and only second from being the most powerful man in the empire. Nothing could be done.

So, when he had hardly said a word during their lunch break the following Monday, Ignis was the one who was prompted to say something.

“Everything alright, Noct?”

They had decided to sit outside. While their movements were restricted, inmates were given permission to get some fresh air for the hour. Not that the outdoor grounds were comfortable, though it was kind of nice to sit on the grass as a group and lean against the wire fence. Well, it would have been nice if not for the circumstances.

The three were staring at him. Noctis swallowed thickly and nodded. Not fooling anyone, Gladio sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“C’mon, man. You’ve been dead quiet for days. What’s up?” he asked. His voice was gruff but Noctis knew he was merely concerned.

“Did something happen after Ravus threw those chemicals on you?” said Prompto.

It was no surprise by now. The day afterwards they had told Gladio, and the day after that, Ignis became aware. It seemed the incident had been quite popular as a source of gossip. As for his rivals, Ravus remained in the water cell, and Loqi was lying low since he had no leader to back him up. Noctis felt his chest ache at the thought. Ravus was a prick, but he felt kind of sorry for him, suffering in that horrible cubicle for hours on end, with nothing to do except long for the next time he could breathe. An hour had been more than enough.

Despite everyone knowing what Ravus had done, Noctis had remained quiet on what Verstael had made him witness, and how Ardyn had jumped him straight afterwards. Prompto had, of course, prodded for answers, though Noctis merely said that he’d yelled some and sent him on his way. Why he had taken so long getting back was still a mystery to them. They were all looking at him expectantly. Should he say something? Would that only burden them further? They were in the same boat as him, after all, and Noctis had no idea what struggles they had to face on their own.

It had been just under a month since he’d met them, though he had grown quite attached to his small gang. They were the only positive thing that he had to look forward to. If they were going to stick the next year out together, then Noctis supposed they _should_ know.

“Well, uh, yeah,” he finally confessed. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s probably not a big deal, but… Verstael made me watch him flog Ravus. Just wasn’t a nice experience, y’know?”

Ignis’ eyebrows shot up, and Prompto looked horrified. Gladio folded his arms. “Dude, _what_? He made you watch that?”

“Dad’s n— I mean, the Chief's never done that before,” Prompto added quietly.

Noctis shrugged. “Yeah. I dunno. Sorry I haven’t said anything.”

“Don’t apologise, you never have to say anything if you’re uncomfortable,” said Ignis.

What had he done to deserve these guys? Noctis smiled softly. The fact that they had simply agreed it was fucked up helped. Noctis usually tried not to get too mushy, especially with other people, but gods, he deserved _some_ emotional rewards after what he’d endured. So this time, he allowed himself to feel grateful.

There was still the matter of Ardyn. What would they say about that? Unlike what had happened with Verstael, Noctis felt his face heat up in embarrassment. Ardyn had been extremely touchy when they were alone. There was his first punishment, and then there was their encounter in the hallway. The first time was creepy enough, but Ardyn had actually held him against the wall and _grinded_ against him. Not for very long, though long enough for Noctis to register what had happened. He might not be very well informed of romance and relationships, yet it didn’t take a genius to know that all Ardyn held in his eyes was lust.

Would his friends believe him? Would they laugh? Or say it was just his imagination? Gladio and Prompto had noticed how Ardyn had pulled Noctis away to talk to him on his first week, something he apparently never bothered with. Perhaps, for now, he could get some insight without telling them everything.

Before he could ask, however, an enormous shriek sent his ears ringing. There was a gust of wind straight afterwards, and Noctis turned his head to the sky.

“The fuck was that?” he yelled.

Squinting in the light, he saw it. A dark shadow flew past, blocking out the sun’s rays for a split second. Four wings were spread out at its head and body.

Gladio shielded his eyes with his hand. “Oh, it’s the guard zu.”

A zu? Noctis allowed himself to focus on the creature as it drifted away out of sight over the nearby forests. He’d only seen one once in his life prior to this. The gigantic bird was rarely seen outside of its mountainous habitat, so what was it doing all the way here?

“It guards Vis Legis’ perimeters,” Ignis explained, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. “Intimidating thing, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean, it guards the perimeters? How do they get it to actually obey them?”

“From what I know, it has been trained since birth to haul escapees back to the camp’s grounds. It wears a tracking device, and some guards have specific whistles that only it can hear to call it back.”

Huh. Noctis watched as the zu circled back around, swooping high above the buildings below. He was surprised it didn’t kill any escaped inmates as soon as it found them. Its talons could rip a car into pieces. Did the guards really have such tight control over it? The prince then scanned his eyes around. Beyond the wire mesh fence was the dense forest, and on the other side were further walls, possibly electrically charged. Watch towers were set up here and there. The place really was a fortress.

“No chance of getting out with that thing around, is there?” he murmured mostly to himself.

“Don’t even think about it,” Gladio said firmly. “If the guards don’t catch you, and the fences don’t stop you, the zu definitely will. It just ain’t worth it.”

Had he considered escaping? Yes, many times. Noctis had the thought as soon as he’d been sentenced here. Once he caught sight of the security, he’d pushed the thought to the back of his mind, but with Ardyn looming as a constant threat, the idea had resurfaced. He had not spent a day since his first punishment in a relaxed state. He was always looking over his shoulder, jumping out of his skin whenever the Chancellor appeared.

Touching him a bit was one thing, but what if he took it a step further? What if he did something awful? What if he was planning to kill him, and torturing him was just all part of his sick fetish?

He pushed down the lump in his throat before he spoke again. “Bet I could manage it.”

Prompto laughed nervously. “Uh, not a good idea, Noct.”

The prince scoffed and leant back. “Yeah? What makes you think I can’t?”

“Our cells are locked at night. There are cameras and guards everywhere, and then there’s the matter of actually getting out of the building in the first place,” Gladio retorted. He didn’t find it funny. “If you get out, then there’s a row of fences, more guards, dogs and then the zu. Even by some slim chance, you get past all of _that_ , they’ll track you down eventually.”

It did seem like quite a challenge. If Noctis had his magic, then he could blitz through a lot of that easily, yet he couldn’t. There had to be some way to restore it, some sort of signal he could cut out that was preventing him from warping and using the Armiger.

Perhaps it was best left until he was better prepared. Noctis pouted as he realised Gladio was right. For the moment, he was stuck here.

Still, he kept this new information in his mind.

* * *

 

Strangely, their afternoon math lesson had been cancelled.

The teacher was missing. No one in charge offered an explanation why, saying only that there had been a change of schedule. Noctis and Prompto found themselves outside with Gladio’s usual group. That was fine by them. Neither particularly enjoyed working with numbers.

Even better, Verstael wasn’t here. According to rumours, he had some important business to attend to outside of his Vis Legis affairs. They were instead left with more bossy guards telling them to fetch their weapons and get into position to begin sparring.

“Wanna go with me again?” Gladio offered.

Just as Noctis was about to agree, a guard put a hand on Gladio’s shoulder. “Not so fast. _We_ will be choosing your sparring partners.”

Noctis frantically looked around. There was no Ravus since he was being punished, and he couldn’t see anyone else that hated him. Was he going to get lucky this time? Would they be merciful and put him without someone who _didn’t_ want him to suffer?

They dragged Gladio away and shoved him with another older boy who Noctis didn’t recognise. Well, he didn’t recognise most of the people here, though he could pick out a few faces he’d seen wandering around. He waited nervously, watching as singles become pairs until he and only a few others remained. Noctis shut his eyes. _Sweet, merciful gods above, please_ —

“Argentum, get with the prince.”

Thank _fuck_. Noctis breathed out a heavy sigh as his roommate joined him. Prompto grinned as they high fived. Finally, he wasn’t stuck with another asshole. Maybe this was the day he’d finally have a good time.

Since they were sparring, Prompto couldn’t use his weapon of choice. He was stuck with a sword to parry against Noct. The prince was fine with it, but Prompto appeared to struggle quite quickly into their spar. So, Noctis stopped and then held a hand out.

“Here, you’re holding it kind of weirdly. Try this.”

Guiding Prompto’s fingers to clutch the hilt at a better angle, he waited until his friend was comfortable again. He gave a few more test swings before nodding. “Thanks. Feels a bit better.”

A bark of laughter snapped their attention away from their task. A guard, clearly interested in them, was leaning against the fence. Everyone else was too busy to notice, and since there were so many guards about, no one could afford to slack off.

“The prince is mocking you,” the guard hissed at Prompto. “Doesn’t think you can fight very well, does he?”

Noctis shot him a glare. He so badly wanted to tell him to piss off, though this was not Ravus or Loqi. This was a guard. He snuck a glance at his bracelet, the singular point staring straight back. Did he want to risk another point, only to end up in Ardyn’s office again? He turned his head away to ignore the temptation. Prompto had the mind to do the same. However, the guard was not finished.

“Hey, I was talking to you.” He marched right up to Prompto.

“Sorry, sir,” he whispered in response.

Still not satisfied with taunting them, the guard slapped Prompto on the back. “Go on, then. Show the Lucian what you’re capable of.”

There was a grin on his face. What did he want Prompto to do? The blond looked between him and Noctis anxiously. He couldn’t afford to actually _hurt_ him. This was sparring, not real fighting. The weapons were real, but they were kept a close eye on so they did not cause serious injuries. Prompto stood there dumbly, holding onto his sword.

He took a step forwards. Noctis took a defensive stance as they resumed. He noticed that Prompto was visibly shaken, intimidated by the guard. He couldn’t blame him. The bastard loomed over them at an uncomfortable distance.

“Is that all you can do? What’s your father going to think?”

Poor Prompto was becoming more upset by the minute. As he tried his best to wield his sword, a weapon he did not find easy to use, the guard kept prodding at him for a reaction. He spat comments about his appearance, how he wasn’t strong enough, and then Noctis became _really_ angry when he started trying to pit them against each other.

“Hit him! Hit the Lucian bastard!” the guard said through his teeth, clearly taking pleasure out of the torment he was causing. Prompto whimpered.

Noctis then threw his sword down, startling both Prompto and the guard.

“Leave him alone.”

Stunned, the guard became speechless. Noctis tensed his jaw and glared with whatever strength he had remaining. So much of it had been beaten out of him since his arrival, but the flame within his heart wouldn’t die so easily. He focused all of his power and asserted it against the guard before him.

“You what?” the guard snarled lowly.

“I said, leave him _alone_.”

Prompto tried to stop him with a pleading look in his eyes, though it was too late. Noctis had been tortured mercilessly in his short time here, and if they were going to start turning on the one thing that made him happy in this place, he wasn’t going to let them do so peacefully. Points be damned. _Ardyn_ be damned. He pushed his fears aside. The guard, however, looked furious. So furious that Prompto took a few steps back.

“I will give you one chance to apologise unless you want me to give you a point.”

Noctis raised his chin before looking directly into the guard’s eye. “ _Fuck_ you.”

The moment he spoke, he knew he shouldn’t have. He couldn’t even react as the guard had his hands around his throat, squeezing the air right out of him. Noctis gasped and scrabbled at the guard’s fingers. He was then thrown to the concrete floor, flinching when he saw the flash of a cane above him.

It was not nearly as intimidating as the whips Ardyn and Verstael had used, but it still hurt when Noctis felt it lash his cheek. It then struck him over the head, on the wrists, and wherever the guard could reach. Hardly anyone looked up.

“Stupid brat, how _dare_ you!” the guard roared as he mercilessly beat Noctis into the ground.

Was this supposed to be a daily occurance? The guard had antagonised _them_! As Noctis rolled over onto his stomach to shield his face, he saw that the other guards were watching in amusement, and the inmates didn’t even care, besides Gladio. He had ceased his sparring and was trying to get a better look without anyone shouting at him. His face was clouded with worry.

He heard Prompto shout above the noise of the cane striking his skin. “Hey, stop!”

Was he seriously trying to stop the guard? Noctis appreciated it, but if anything, Prompto would just get himself hurt.

“Prom, don’t,” he said between lashes.

The blond grabbed onto the guard’s right arm. He stopped and yanked it away. “Unhand me!”

It was hard to get a good look at anything since he was too busy trying to protect himself, but Noctis could see that Prompto was trying to separate the two. Why was he? It had been Noctis' decision to stand up to the guard, and while he partially regretted it, he didn’t want to see his friend suffer if he could help it. He was fine with taking the punishment he had asked for. Before he could tell Prompto to get away, the lashing stopped.

He lowered his arms. The guard had gone deathly silent, as well as everyone else in the yard. Noctis could see their horrified faces around him. He frowned, confused, until he turned around.

Prompto, in the midst of trying to pull the guard away, had not released his sword.

Instead, he had accidentally shoved it in front of him, and when the guard tried to bring his hand down, impaled his palm on the blade.

Time stood still. This was even worse than Noctis hitting Ulldor. The sword had lodged right through the bone at an awkward side angle, clearly a mistake, but would the guard see it that way? Prompto’s expression mirrored that of absolute alarm. His entire body trembled, clearly not believing what he had just done.

The silence was broken when the guard let out a scream. He sank to his knees, clutching his torn open hand, the sword clattering to the floor. Blood spurted _everywhere_. Both Prompto and Noctis scrambled back.

“You stabbed me!” the guard screeched. “You fucking _stabbed_ me!”

“I didn’t—” Prompto blubbered, on the verge of tears.

“Seize him!” someone cried. Two other guards lunged for Prompto, dragging him away. One then hauled Noctis up by the arm.

“What happened?!”

“No, it was an accident!” the prince tried to say. “It was _my_ fault!”

Well, technically, he thought it was the guard’s fault, yet he couldn’t very well say that. The man was still screaming bloody murder. Since he was far too disorientated to talk, Prompto was put in hand cuffs and taken inside, while Noctis was pushed against the wire fence. He watched from the corner of his eye as the injured guard was hurriedly attended to by medics.

“Put them in solitary for the next _year_ ,” he hissed miserably.

Noctis was struck across the face. He was then spun around, placed in his own set of cuffs and then hauled out of the yard. They had taken Prompto off in another direction, which from what Noctis could see, was towards solitary.

“Stop, I’m telling you, it was me!”

“Shut it, or you’ll end up like Argentum over there.”

Gods, this was all his fault. When would he get a full seven days when something horrible didn’t happen? Last week, it was Ravus throwing chemicals on him, and the weekend before that, it was Loqi starting shit. It all felt like a big repetition, with someone out to get him in some form. It was either that or he was the biggest bad luck magnet.

Noctis was put in an empty room for a good half an hour. Cuffed to the table, he couldn’t do much else except sit and wait.

Eventually, a guard came in, this time a different one. He slammed his hands on the table Noctis was chained to. “Explain to me, _prince_ , why did Argentum stab that guard? Do you have any idea the amount of trouble he’s in?”

He really had fucked up. Worse than the previous times. He had gotten someone _else_ in trouble because of his actions. Swallowing his anxiety, Noctis knew this was his only chance to try and take the blame from Prompto and onto him instead. Not that he wanted to be punished again, but he wasn’t going to just let his roommate take the blame when he had only been trying to stop the guard from caning him.

“Don’t blame Prompto, he was trying to protect me,” he began. “That guard was harassing us!”

The interrogator snorted. “The guards of Vis Legis are trained professionals. They have better things to do than bother inmates.” What a load of shit. Noctis glared daggers. The interrogator didn’t let him finish before taking his wrist, giving him a second point. “Be on your way. Be thankful we’re low on solitary cells, otherwise that’s where you would be going.”

He was pushed from the room and told to go for lunch. How could Noctis do that when he had no idea where his friend was being taken? He whirled around and stepped in front of the interrogator before he could leave. “Wait, what’s going to happen to Prompto?”

“That is for the Chancellor to decide. His punishment for assaulting a guard will be harsh, don’t you worry.”

Noctis ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe this! How unfair could you get? It was the guard’s problem for trying to get them to fight when they should have been sparring. Getting a sword in his hand had been what he deserved. While Noctis didn’t feel sorry for him, he did feel sorry for Prompto. He knew what Ardyn was like. If he had received such a brutal punishment for racking up five points, then what would Prompto have to endure?

The only thing he could do was reluctantly make his way to the cafeteria. Gladio was already waiting for him. Pacing near the queue like a caged animal, he raced towards Noctis as he arrived.

“What the hell happened?”

“It wasn’t Prompto’s fault!” Noctis said immediately. “Look, the guard was harassing us, and I got too mouthy. Prompto tried to stop him from caning me, and— _fuck_ , Gladio, it was an accident. If anyone has to be punished, it should be me.”

Gladio’s face softened. “I believe you, Noct. But gods, Prompto isn’t going to be let off easy. Kid’s going to _suffer_.”

 _Great_ . Noctis chewed on his knuckles. If only he hadn’t said anything! Then again, if he hadn’t, what if the guard kept going? What if he had hurt them anyway? He didn’t know _what_ to think. This place truly was a hellhole. No matter what you did, no matter what path you decided to take, there would be consequences. Perhaps it stung more because everything up until this point hadn’t been his fault, except now, Noctis could only blame himself. His friend was going to suffer because he couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut.

Lunch was not pleasant. Gladio kept him company, though Noctis' stomach was in knots. He could only force in a few mouthfuls of the gruel they had been given. The texture was enough to make him gag, the taste so vile he had to hold his breath. It wasn’t worth it.

What about Prompto? Was he going to be given lunch? Was he going to be given anything?

The worry preventing him from relaxing, Noctis shot up as soon as Gladio was finished. “I can’t take this anymore. I’ve got to try and do something.”

“You can’t, Noct. They’re not going to listen. We’re just going to have to hope Prompto manages.”

Manages what? What were they going to _do_ to him? Horrible images flashed through Noctis' mind. He couldn’t bear the thought of his friend stuck in the water cell, or in solitary for days, or being at the mercy of Ardyn’s whip. Or his own father’s, if they were that cruel. While he had no idea of what their relationship was actually like, he knew it couldn’t be good.

“I… I can ask someone.”

Gladio sighed in exasperation. “Who? If the guards didn’t listen to you before, then they’re not going to listen to you now.”

That was true, but Noctis wasn’t thinking of asking the guards. They wouldn’t hold any influence over Prompto. He thought for a moment, standing next to the table they had been sitting at.

There was Verstael. Not exactly a pleasing option, and the nutcase often gave mixed messages. Sometimes he was on the verge of being nice, and then the next moment, he was treating Noctis like any other inmate. The only pro of asking him was that he was Prompto’s father, though as he thought earlier, he had no idea what their relationship was like. Prompto referred to him as ‘Chief’, not ‘dad’. How did that signify any kindness between them?

Other figures of authority left Ulldor, but he was out of the question. He looked like he wanted to kill him whenever they passed each other. He definitely wouldn’t listen.

The prince shivered as he considered his third option. The Chancellor himself.

He was oddly fond of him, Noctis knew for certain, as much as the thought repulsed him. He didn’t want to think about it. He’d spent enough time overanalysing their encounters over the past few weeks.

So what was he going to do? Should he take the risk and ask whoever he found first? Would they punish him for it? What would they do if they actually listened? No, he knew the answer. Verstael and Ulldor weren’t high ranked enough, and that guard said the Chancellor was going to call the shots.

Noctis ended up walking out of the cafeteria. Gladio was hot on his heels, yelling for him to slow down and think things through. Well, he’d tried that, hadn’t he? It wasn’t getting him anywhere.

“Don’t you ever listen?” Gladio barked as he finally caught up.

“Look, Prompto’s in trouble because of me, so the least I can do is try and sort shit out.”

Whether it worked or not was out of his control, but Noctis tried not to think about that. If he pleaded hard enough, then maybe, at the very least, they would soften Prompto’s punishment.

It was Monday today. Noctis didn’t know where Verstael or Ulldor were, though he _did_ know that Ardyn was around. He was just going to have to bite the bullet and talk to him. What other choice did he have besides from letting his friend suffer?

“I’m going to ask the Chancellor,” Noctis said.

Gladio had to hide his surprise with a cough. “The Chancellor? He’s not going to listen! He’ll tear you into pieces if he ever finds out you’re desperate! Not to mention, he’s _weird_ with you, Noct.”

That comment made him stop.

“Weird?” he repeated.

“Yeah, like, he never really cares about us inmates. He’s the disciplinary officer, but he talks to you. Actually _talks_ to you. Don’t tell me you don’t find that creepy.”

Oh, no. He _definitely_ found it creepy. Gladio would probably have a heart attack if he knew just how creepy Ardyn could be, what he had done when he and Noctis were alone. He hadn’t only spoken to him, he had touched him. Repeatedly. Taken pleasure out of torturing him.

Maybe he should listen to Gladio after all.

As he was about to turn around to give his friend an answer, a familiar figure swam into view. Noctis caught a glimpse of black and red armour before they disappeared around a corner. He’d definitely seen that person here, although it had been a while. It was the woman he had met during his first week, the one who had assisted in fighting the MT.

“Wait, there’s Aranea!” Noctis said and ran after her.

She was surprised to see him. Her eyebrows raised as he skidded around the hallway, almost slipping on the newly cleaned floor. “Prince?”

It was a long shot, but Aranea was a valuable possibility. She wasn’t like the others, bloodlust and malice absent from her eyes. While she didn’t have much authority here, she had more than he did.

“Sorry, I— I need your help.”

“With what? You know I can’t interfere with anything official,” she warned.

“No, it’s…” He cut himself off. Taking a breath, he tried to make his next sentence as brief as possible. “I got Prompto into trouble, and now he’s getting punished because of me. Please, I need you to talk to someone in charge.”

“Oh, you mean the Chief’s son? What happened?” Aranea winced when Noctis explained the morning’s events. Gladio was lingering behind, clearly not pleased with Noctis' idea to ask the commodore for help, though he said nothing. She then held a finger to her chin in thought. “That’s a big deal, prince. He’s not gonna get off easy. They’ll brutalise him.”

The desperation was evident in Noctis' voice. “ _Please_. I know you don’t like the way they do things around here.”

Was this a risk? Talking so casually to a member of the imperial army? He wasn’t really much of a formal guy anyway, yet he didn’t know. He felt relaxed in Aranea’s presence. Not that she was a pushover or a soft woman, yet he knew she held some empathy. Her face fell at his pleading tone as she chewed on her lip.

“Alright.” Her answer flooded him with relief. “I’ll try and get a word in with the Chancellor. He’s not here today, but I can see him on Wednesday. Just don’t hold your breath.”

Noctis simultaneously felt his heart sink and his hopes rise. He guessed that maybe Ardyn would be more likely to listen, seeing as he was so interested in Noctis' affairs, yet would he actually do anything? Would he make it worse? Did he even _have_ an opinion on Prompto?

He nodded regardless. “Thanks, Aranea.”

Silently, he returned to his classes. He’d made his choice and now had to stick with it.

* * *

 

That night, he hardly slept.

While Noctis was used to have his own room, his cell felt strangely empty. All he could think about was Prompto suffering in solitary, or being trapped in the water cell, or bleeding out from the lashes of a monstrous whip. He should have  allowed that guard to give him a point, to hopefully distract him from harassing them. He was a fool.

Tuesday came and went, and then so did Wednesday. There was still no sign of Aranea, and Verstael hadn’t mentioned his son at all. Noctis was tempted to ask him, but decided against it.

What was _happening_ to him?

It was almost the end of the day when a guard entered the laboratory. Verstael glanced up from his desk curiously, while everyone else continued with their work in fear of being shouted at.

“Is Noctis Lucis Caelum here?”

Freezing, Noctis waited for Verstael to dismiss him. There was only one reason that he was going to be called from his work.

The Chief nodded and waved him out. Noctis slowly got to his feet, ignoring the worried glance Gladio gave him. He didn’t have time to think about his decision. He was happy Aranea kept her word, but he couldn’t help feeling nervous. What was the Chancellor going to say? Was he even going to see Ardyn, or was he going to see someone else? Noctis spent the entire time brooding on the possibilities before he ended up in the office block once again.

He _hated_ this corridor. Every time he came here, all it meant was bad news. Nothing that hid behind those doors was something to look forward to. He held his breath as the guard then took him to the dreaded Chancellor’s office.

Inside, Aranea was already present. She was leaning against the wall, far too uncomfortable to take a seat, while Ardyn was in his usual place at his desk. He was sitting sideways, legs swung over the armrest and his back resting against the other. Did this man ever sit properly?

“I’ve brought the prince for you, Chancellor.”

Ardyn leaned back, that obnoxious smirk on his face. “Very good.”

The guard bowed and left, leaving the three of them alone in Ardyn’s pompously decorated office. The smell of old furniture and red wine brought back _awful_ memories. Noctis kept his face straight, however. He had asked for this. While Aranea didn’t seem pleased with the situation, he was glad she was here. He owed her big time.

“So, Noctis,” Ardyn began. “You wish to tell me that the details I have about the event regarding Mr Argentum are incorrect?”

“Yes,” Noctis whispered.

Ardyn smiled ever so slightly. He then turned to Aranea, giving her one of his signature flamboyant gestures. “Aranea, would you be a darling and leave us?”

The commodore grimaced at his condescending tone but obeyed. She gave a nod to Noctis on her way out. Fuck, now he was alone with… _him_.

 _No, don’t be afraid_ , he told himself. Whatever Ardyn had in store this time, it was worth it if Prompto was released.

“Care to tell me _why_ you think that?”

The prince took a step forward so that he was in front of the desk, only close enough so that he could be heard easily. He was not going to sit in front of Ardyn if he didn’t have to. Fingering his collar, he cleared his throat before he started. “It was a mistake.”

The Chancellor scoffed. “Everything’s an accident when it concerns you, isn’t it?”

“No, really,” Noctis countered. “I'm the one to blame. I antagonised the guard. Prompto was only trying to protect me.”

“ _Protect_ you? The little knave stuck a sword through someone’s hand. How am I to believe his intentions were innocent?”

“He didn’t mean to! Look, he told me he wasn’t good with a sword, and when I tried to help him, the guard started harassing us. _I_ was the one who got mouthy. When the guard started caning me, Prompto stepped in, and I didn’t exactly see— he just lost his grip. The guard was fighting with him. You can’t punish him for that!”

Ardyn gazed at him with his golden eyes. He was good at hiding what he was thinking, Noctis unsure if he was actually considering his story to be true or if he was just cooking up another snarky comment. He remained silent until he then swung his legs down from the armrest and leaned forward in his seat.

He then smiled again. “Aren’t you a loyal friend? Regardless, Your Highness, I’m afraid I simply _must_ carry this punishment out.”

Noctis clenched his fist in fury. Through gritted teeth, he asked, “What are you going to do?”

“Interested, are we? Noct, you _sadist_.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Noctis snapped before he could stop himself.

Suddenly, he felt Ardyn hold a riding crop under his neck. With blinding speed, he had shot up out of his desk and whipped it out of nowhere. The prince swallowed as Ardyn tilted his chin up.

“Watch your tone. You are speaking to the Chancellor of Niflheim.” The feeling of the crop’s tip under his skin made him livid. Ardyn was toying with him, enjoying every bit of frustration he was drawing out of him. He was pressing it so tightly that Noctis couldn’t really open his jaw without having to move his head back, so he kept still. Ardyn ripped it away harshly and placed it on the desk. “Really, if you _must_ know, Prompto will be given 200 lashes and at least a month in solitary. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even let the guard he stabbed take out his anger on him. Oh, the things a man could do to a boy like _that_.”

“You can’t!”

Ardyn arched a brow smugly. “Can’t I?”

Tears pricked at the edges of Noctis' eyes. He couldn’t do that to Prompto, not when he wasn’t the one to blame. Gods, he’d never felt so furious and hopeless in his life. He tried not to let Ardyn see his expression, though the Chancellor saw anyway, much to _his_ delight.

“Please,” Noctis forced out, “if you’re going to punish someone, punish _me_.”

“Why would I ever do such a thing? You’ve done nothing wrong.” Ardyn’s mocking tone made him want to scream. Noctis felt he really _was_ going to cry before the man in front of him chuckled darkly. “Oh, come now. Those sad eyes of yours are breaking my heart.”

The prince couldn’t say anything else. He was afraid if he did, he’d start crying hysterically, and he was definitely not going to allow Ardyn to see him in such a state. Eventually, he sighed.

Ardyn crept around the desk and to the back of him, and Noctis almost gasped when he felt him wrap his arms around his waist, his chin resting on his shoulder. Here he went with the fucking _touching_ . Except, this time, Noctis could not sense mischief, or even lust, but pure _malice_.

“Tell you what,” he purred in his ear. “I might be so kind as to… _look over_ this little incident, if you do me a _favour_ , dear prince.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, eating popcorn: this is going to be a disaster


	9. For Your Benefit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After giving Ardyn his requested 'favour', Noctis decides he cannot stay at Vis Legis a moment longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rating's gone up. archive warnings apply here, kids. i officially feel bad.

****“What do you _want_?”

At the sound of Noctis' resignation, Ardyn grinned in satisfaction and circled around to his front. The expression on his face was unbearable. He had not yet stated what he wanted, but he looked certain that he was going to get it.

“I suppose I’ll tell you after. First, Noct, you must agree before we begin.”

Noctis inhaled sharply. “But what _is_ it? What’s this favour?”

The Chancellor tsked and held a finger to his lips. “Ah-ah, patience is a virtue.”

He’d been patient for two days, waiting for him to get back! Noctis glared at the man in fury as Ardyn stood there. When he got out of here, he promised to himself he’d take care of Ardyn as soon as possible. Even just the sight of his stupid sneer was enough to get Noctis' blood boiling. His friend’s physical and mental being was a stake, yet Ardyn looked as if he was going to draw his teasing out as long as he possibly could.

Seeing as he was not going to say anything until he agreed, Noctis reluctantly nodded. Ardyn clapped his hands once and then went back to his seat at the desk.

“Wonderful. Now, then. Come here.” Noctis walked in front of the desk. Ardyn shook his head. “No, no. Come around _here_. How am I supposed to reach you otherwise?”

Scooting around so that he was now standing on Ardyn’s right, Noctis scowled. Why was he being so vague? Why couldn’t the prick just say what he wanted and be done with it? Since he was only a few feet away from him, Noctis assumed he was going to have to perform something embarrassing. Lick his boots, maybe? He mentally rolled his eyes. This man was such a pervert he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the answer.

“On your knees, boy.”

Wait, was that really what he wanted? Ardyn pointed to the floor when Noctis took too long in registering the command. He looked down to see the soft red rug beneath them, free of any mess. Slowly, _very_ slowly, Noctis got on one knee, and then allowed the other to rest beside it. He sulked up at Ardyn.

The Chancellor, however, seemed pleased. He reached a hand outwards to place atop Noctis' raven hair. Flinching under Ardyn’s touch, Noctis shied away before he felt Ardyn grip a tuft tightly in his hand. He gasped.

Instead of getting on with whatever favour he wanted, Ardyn went back to rambling. “I was pleasantly surprised when I heard from Miss Highwind that you requested to see me. All for the sake of your friend.” His grasp tightened and Noctis felt some of his hairs being ripped out. Thankfully, Ardyn released him shortly afterwards, but before he could get away, he felt strong hands grip his chin. “I _like_ you, Noct. You have been so intriguing since your arrival; very befitting of a member of royalty.”

What was he talking about? Noctis tried to hold his fierce gaze as Ardyn then moved his fingers so that they were gently lifting his chin up instead of grabbing it. He continued to remain silent, more out of confusion than anything else.

“I thought I’d take this opportunity to get to know you better. After all, you’re such an interesting specimen.”

“Can you just get to the point?” Noctis snapped, ripping his head away. 

Ardyn raised his eyebrows in surprise before chuckling. “Straight to business, then?” He then leaned back in his seat. “Very well, have you ever performed oral sex on a man before?”

His blood turned to ice. Not believing what he had heard, the prince peered up at Ardyn, who was checking his nails as if he had just asked the most casual question in the world. Had he really said that? Had those words actually come out of his mouth, or was Noctis' paranoia at an all time high?

“...Well?”

“I, uh—”

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” said Ardyn after Noctis fumbled over his words. An embarrassed flush spread across his cheeks. What kind of question was that? What was Ardyn expecting him to say? The man laughed once more. “You naive child. I suppose I’ll have to get you started, hm?”

No, this couldn’t be real. Ardyn was joking. He had to be. There was that amused smirk again, clearly enjoying Noctis' discomfort, so he had to be screwing with him! Noctis found himself tongue-tied, unable to form a coherent sentence. When the moment it suddenly hit him that _yes_ , Ardyn _was_ in fact, being serious, Noctis let out an unflattering gasp of horror and scrambled backwards. He hit his backside on the floor, but quickly got to his feet, eyes wide.

“No!” he cried. “No, I’m not— you’re sick. You’re fucking disgusting. No way in _hell_.”

“Oh? Didn’t you want to free your friend from solitary? Whatever will he do if he remains trapped there, all alone, with only a _very_ angry guard for company?”

The sneer the Chancellor pulled was vile enough for Noctis to feel nauseous. It was official, he had crossed the fucking line. How dare he use Prompto as bait for him to perform his sick fantasy? Noctis was aware he was a creep that liked him a bit too much, yet the fact he’d suggest that was unexpected. Then again, why should he be surprised? He had touched him repeatedly, whispered suggestive comments to him and given him knowing looks for _weeks_ . It was just the fact that he’d openly admit it, _admit_ that he liked him, and then ask for… _that_. Noctis felt his legs tremble.

“No, I can’t,” Noctis ended up whispering. “I don’t—”

“Alright, if you don’t, then I’ll extend Prompto’s punishment by another month. Have it your way, Noct.”

The tears of frustration had returned. Noctis clenched and unclenched his fists, processing Ardyn’s words one at a time. He was blackmailing him. With his own roommate. His mind began to tug at his consciousness in different directions.

Prompto was someone Noctis valued. They had not known each other long, though the time they had spent talking all night, or laughing until they cried over their dumb jokes, protecting each other from the thugs in their class, it _meant_ something. Noctis didn’t know if he was being cheesy or overly sentimental, but in this period of darkness, Prompto had been one of the very few lights present. The fact that he was stuck in solitary because of his mistakes made his heart _ache_. But was it worth Ardyn’s price?

The thought disgusted him. Noctis was a virgin, his only experiences involving himself. He had no fucking clue how to give a blowjob. When the very idea entered his mind, he felt his stomach roil and his gut twist in protest. How could he willingly bend to such an act? Even the fact that he was _considering_ it revolted him. Was he seriously about to suck Ardyn off to get his friend out of a punishment?

It seemed he had spent too long thinking. Ardyn had picked up the riding crop from earlier and was springing the tail with his hand. “You’d better come to a conclusion before I change my mind.”

“Please, wait—”

“Going once.”

Noctis whimpered. “Ardyn—”

“Going _twice_.”

“ _Alright_!”

The satisfied smirk was back. Ardyn had won.

Noctis felt his entire body sag in defeat, humiliated. He scuffed his feet across the floor as he made his way back to Ardyn. The man used the riding crop to point to the spot in front of him, where Noctis had been kneeling several minutes ago.

“A wise decision at last. Now, then. On. Your. _Knees_.”

He sank to the floor heavily. Both of them ignored the loud thump he made, Noctis too busy hanging his head in shame and Ardyn too excited to care.

Noctis watched as Ardyn then put the riding crop back, unfortunately noticing his growing hard-on. He grimaced at the sight, ducking his head down and squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t know how he was going to hold down his vomit for the duration of this. However, Ardyn either did not see his discomfort, or didn’t care. He stopped for a moment, contemplating on whether or not to force Noctis to open his fly, though decided to do so himself. Even the noise of that made Noctis uneasy.

He tried not to look as Ardyn brought his erection out. He was forced to anyway when a large hand fisted his hair and yanked his head up.

In all honestly, it could have _looked_ worse. What hair was showing was neatly trimmed back, and since Ardyn’s uniform was bulky, Noctis was spared from the rest of him. Regardless of that small mercy, he felt his lunch threatening to come back up. 

“What are you waiting for?” Ardyn nagged. “Give me the performance expected of a prince.”

Did he think Noctis did this sort of shit regularly? Gods, the temptation to bite was unbearable. As he hesitated once again, Ardyn coaxed his head forward with his hand so that the tip of his dick was touching Noctis' lips. What… what was he meant to do? The prince cringed both externally and internally. His only knowledge of blowjobs were from what little porn he had seen, and he knew porn wasn’t exactly the best place to get sexual knowledge from. He knew he couldn’t just sit here, but the thought of opening his mouth was _gross_.

It seemed Ardyn was becoming impatient as he leant down and pressed his thumb against Noctis' lower lip, enticing it to part from the one above. At first, he kept his mouth firmly shut, too scared to do anything else.

“Noctis,” Ardyn hissed, anger injected into his words. “If you do not obey, then I’ll leave your friend in the water cell until you comply.”

Trying for one last pleading look, blue eyes bore into gold. Except Ardyn’s usual smile was gone and his lips were pressed downwards into a scowl. He was done playing games.

Noctis resisted the urge to gag as Ardyn forced his penis in. He was merciful, allowing it to fill Noctis' mouth but not going so far as to choke him. Noctis sat there like that for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, though with an encouraging tug on his hair, hesitantly flicked his tongue out. A mistake, surely, because the taste of bitter flesh was almost enough to make him pull out. He probably would have if it weren’t for his head being held in place.

Soon after, Noctis felt his head being pulled back an inch, and then pushed forwards. Ardyn was doing the work for him, or at least for long enough to give him a headstart. He didn’t know judging from his expression, considering he had his eyes shut out of embarrassment. If he had to do this, then he wasn’t going to give Ardyn the satisfaction of seeing how upset he was.

The process repeated for a minute. Noctis kept his breathing steady, trying his hardest not to scrape his teeth along the shaft lest Ardyn call back his deal.

“I’m sure you get the idea by now,” he said. “Do continue by yourself.”

The Chancellor removed his hand and fully rested in his chair, one arm on the armrest and the other propping his head up. Noctis was initially startled with the feeling of nothing pressing him forwards, so it took him a moment to shift his legs and put his hands on Ardyn’s knees to keep himself still. It was difficult to get comfortable in such a position, his kneecaps hurting and his calves beginning to go numb. Still, those were the least of his problems. He couldn’t believe what he was doing, what he was being _forced_ to do.

His jaw began to ache very quickly. It had only been two or so minutes, yet already Noctis wanted to pull his head back. It wasn’t just from keeping his mouth open, it was from the act of moving his neck, straining his throat and tongue—it was horrible. He tried not to even think about the taste. At some point, his jaw was protesting too much, and he pulled away.

“Hurts,” he muttered. Ardyn was not pleased.

“Come now, Noct. You can do better than _that_.” The prince almost retched as Ardyn gripped him once again and forced him forwards.

The pacing grew at an alarming rate. Noctis had to dig his nails into Ardyn’s knee to get him to stop lest he puke or accidentally bite. His eyes watered with the aching in his jaw and how the sides of his mouth cracked. The prince tried his best to keep going, licking his tongue over the head occasionally to get Ardyn to sigh in pleasure. It was horrible, but he wanted this over and done with. The faster Ardyn got his rocks off, the faster he could leave and save Prompto.

He knew he wasn’t going as vigorously as he probably should be, though there was only so much he could do when everything ached so badly. Noctis' watering eyes had turned into waterfalls, dampening his cheeks and joining the saliva that was dribbling down his chin. He couldn’t help it. 

It was hard to tell if Ardyn was close to finishing. He had remained very quiet throughout the procedure, only occasionally letting out a breath or restraining a moan here and there. Noctis was too tired to go any faster, but he was wondering at what point when this _hell_ would be over. Part of his mind was still trying to convince him it was merely a bad dream.

Ardyn finally pushed him off just as Noctis was sure his lips were going to split. Releasing a low groan, Ardyn pumped his length a few times before cumming over Noctis' hair. Semen splattered over his cheek and bangs, causing him to whip back in disgust.

“Look at what you’ve done! You’ve made a mess of my carpet,” the Chancellor scolded. Noctis couldn’t give two flying _fucks_ about the fucking carpet. He hoped it was ruined. 

Fetching a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket, Ardyn then wiped the dribbles of spit and semen from Noctis' face, finishing him off by collecting the rest from his hair. As the prince’s locks were so black, the stains remained visible. The darkness in Ardyn twisted and coiled in pleasure at the sight.

“Fuck,” Noctis said under his breath. He panted heavily, reaching up a hand to massage his sore jaw. How long had that even gone on for? 

“As for your performance rating,” Ardyn drawled annoyingly, throwing the handkerchief aside, “not bad, but you slobbered like a dog. Best to keep that in check next time, hm?”

 _Fuck you. As if there would ever be a fucking next time_ , Noctis thought bitterly. He wanted to scream, to leap up and strangle Ardyn where he sat, to stab him with the many instruments of torture he kept here in his little sex dungeon. He wished to so badly, yet the thought of Prompto suffering kept him in place. He’d paid the price, so he was going to get his fucking reward.

Ardyn ignored him as he got to his feet. Noctis stood shakily, knees locking up from kneeling for so long. He remained there until the Chancellor turned back to him, almost annoyed he was still there.

“What?”

“Prompto,” Noctis snarled, voice raw and husky. “You _promised_.”

Rolling his eyes, Ardyn waved a hand. “Oh, yes, yes. I’ll have him released momentarily. Now on you go, Noct. I’m a very busy man.”

Clearly not busy enough to pass up a fucking blowjob. 

Noctis stormed out of the office, door slamming behind him. He didn’t care at this point. Still not believing he stooped to such a low act, the prince made directly for his cell. He didn’t want to linger in the hallways anymore, didn’t want to be anywhere _near_ this hellhole. The tiny room he had been given was his only sanctuary, at least partially. Once inside, he made a beeline for the bathroom and locked the door. Pressing himself against it and sliding down until he hit the floor, Noctis let out a wail of anguish.

He couldn’t believe he’d done that! He’d sucked the fucking Chancellor of Niflheim off! He’d _agreed_ to have his dick in his mouth!

Thumping his fist against the door to try and relieve some of his built up anger, Noctis didn’t try and stop himself from crying this time. The tears fell freely, making his skin red and clammy. He balled his hands and pressed them into his eyesockets, doing whatever he could in vain to distract himself from the torrent of agony and humiliation that was pouring out. It had been trapped inside him for so long that the mental reservoir that had burst felt crushing. His brain felt like it was going to shut down from the sheer pressure it was under.

This was never have supposed to happen. He should be back home in Lucis, in the castle, playing video games or attending one of his boring politics lessons. He’d do anything to be back there, safe and secure behind the Crown City’s walls. For a long time, he had resented feeling trapped, though only now did he realised what the meaning of ‘trapped’ meant. Whatever he hated about home was absolutely _nothing_ compared to what he was experiencing now. What would his father think? What would he do if he knew how his son was being treated?

Noctis let out another wail, longing for the comfort of a parent. He was a 20 year old man, he knew that, yet he felt like such a child.

He only got up after ten minutes of sobbing to himself. He grabbed his toothbrush and rinsed his mouth out more thoroughly than he ever had, and while there was no shower, he stuck his head under the sink to rinse his hair. It was all he could for the moment. Noctis did not look at himself in the mirror. 

When he had finished, he leaned the palm of his hand against the wall, taking deep breaths. 

He couldn’t stay here. He’d rather die than go through that shit again. He was glad Prompto would be alright, but that was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemies. So, what now? Gladio had told him how difficult it would be to escape, what with all the cameras and guards, but fuck, he’d end up dying if he stayed here. One month in and he was already at the verge of insanity. How was he supposed to last another 11 months if Ardyn was going to blackmail him like that? No doubt he was going to do so again.

There was no other option. He _had_ to escape.

* * *

 

Curled up in his cramped solitary cell, Prompto jumped when he heard the door slide open via a series of electronic locks. The blond looked up to see a guard.

“You’re dismissed from solitary, Argentum,” he said stiffly.

Prompto furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He only became further confused when he was hauled up and pushed out of the cell. Hardly anything was said as he passed the solitary receptionist, no other explanation given other that the Chancellor had given the order. Why was that? He’d only been in solitary for two days, not caned even once. There was no way they’d just let him off the hook after what he’d done.

Still, Prompto didn’t complain. A happy smile broke out on his face as he was instructed to go back to his dorm. Maybe they’d watched the security footage and seen that it really was an accident? Regardless, he couldn’t believe his luck. Noctis would be so happy to find out.

“Prompto?” a deep voice called out.

He turned to see Verstael coming his way down one of the thin corridors, utterly confused as to why he was roaming loose.

“Sir,” he responded.

“What are you doing out of solitary?”

“Chancellor Izunia said I was dismissed.”

Verstael stopped to process the answer. Why the hell had Ardyn gone and done that? Not that Verstael took pleasure in knowing that Prompto was going to be tortured, but he had committed a serious offense. He was lucky to be given only the single month in solitary compared to what other inmates had received in the past for the same crime. There was no logical explanation, unless…

A growl formed in the back of his throat. _Ardyn_. 

The Chief spun around on his heel and made off in the other direction, headed for the office block. Prompto didn’t attempt to call him back and began his way towards his cell.

When Verstael found Ardyn, he was still in his office, tidying stacks of papers to shove into the drawers beneath his desk. He glanced over to give him an incredulous look.

“Ever heard of knocking?”

“Don’t give me that,” snapped Verstael. He marched towards the Chancellor and slammed his hands down on the desk. “What’s going on? Why did you excuse Prompto? He wasn’t supposed to be dismissed until next month.”

Ardyn shrugged innocently. “I simply realised I had made a _terrible_ mistake. The poor young lad was innocent after all.”

As if. The man was smirking, clearly very satisfied with himself. He was the cat who had gotten the cream, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Frustrated, Verstael threw his hands up and walked a few paces back. He knew Ardyn all too well at this point. He’d gotten something he wanted, and letting Prompto out early had be the compensation. Although, what? What the hell would be enough to convince Ardyn to do such a thing? What was worth it? Questions racked Verstael’s mind before he then realised. 

“Is this because of the Lucian prince?” he snarled.

“Oh, not at all. Who do you take me for?” Ardyn’s tone was mocking, teasing. Verstael almost yelled in rage.

“Ardyn!”

The Chancellor scoffed, annoyed that he wasn’t playing along. “Temper, dear Verstael. If you need know, then there is a chance the prince offered me a favour in exchange for the early release of his friend.”

Oh, he had to be _joking_. 

“What do you mean, a favour?” Verstael demanded. Upon seeing the perverted grin forming upon Ardyn’s face, he grimaced in disgust. “Actually, spare me. I don’t wish to know.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem _is_ , you’re focusing your entire job around this boy! You cannot afford to give him special privileges just because you’re _enamoured_ with him! What else are you going to allow him, hm? A guard position? An early release? To be your little prefect?”

Ardyn let out a loud laugh. As he always did, particular to wind Verstael up further. The man loathed it when he wasn’t serious. It was a while before he spoke again.

“I’ve got everything under control. You forget my position. Why the upset look? Your precious son is out of solitary, isn't he?”

While Verstael had spawned many clones in order to be used for the Magitek Infantry, Ardyn loved to tease him about the fact he kept Prompto. He had gotten attached to him as an infant, bewildered that the toddler had crawled _to_ him unlike the rest. Verstael was not known for his paternal nature, thus he stuck Prompto in Vis Legis so he could be kept a close eye on. Ignoring him, Verstael continued.

“Not only two weeks ago, you were instructing me to give the prince the choice to watch a punishment. What are you planning? Do you want to bring him up to our level to act as your pawn, or do you only see him as a plaything? Make up your _mind_ , Izunia.”

He began to argue as Ardyn lead him out of the room. He was far stronger than he seemed, and since he was much taller than Verstael, the shorter man didn’t have much of a choice except to allow himself to be kicked out of the office. 

“I already have.”

Slamming the door in the Chief’s face, Ardyn turned around.

It had been difficult to contain his feelings. Ever since the moment Noctis had wandered into his office, he had been overwhelmed with emotions, mostly from the daemons in his head. They had screeched with joy at the sight of Noctis' begging, coiled in delight at the desperation in his voice. Ardyn was almost forced to take action despite how he valued composure. If not for the daemons, he would have dragged out his manipulation tactics out longer, but there was only so much he could handle with all the demented screaming in his mind. Giving the daemons what they wanted was the fastest solution.

Not that he… disagreed with their methods. Ardyn just didn’t want to have Noctis too early, seeing as it had only been a month since his sentence. The last time they spoke, the daemons had gotten a tad too excitable and Ardyn gave in to their demands. Since then, he'd tried to have better control of them.

The blowjob itself hadn’t been that great. Noctis nipped every now and again, his virgin mouth unsure of how to deal with such a delicate task. What had really done it for Ardyn was the degradation of the gods’ precious chosen one. The entire time his thoughts had been filled with what they could possibly be thinking, his theories giving him such pleasure that he overlooked Noctis' average performance. Only during the act itself and afterwards had the daemons quieted down, satisfied.

While that would keep them silent for a while, Ardyn would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to their next encounter.


	10. The Elusive Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An escape plan is shared amongst the group.

****Despite feeling like he was going to crack at any second, the next several days of the young prince’s life was spent looking for escape routes.

Gladiolus wasn’t kidding. Vis Legis was built like a stone palace. No matter which way he turned, there were guards, cameras, walls, or locks. It was all designed to keep everything in—permanently. Unless he had coherent help and a good plan, he was never going to get out.

That was the thing that scared him the most. Noctis had plotted out several possibilities of this going wrong, and they were all horrifying. He would be tortured mercilessly at the very least, if Ardyn didn’t take him first. What the Chancellor had forced him to do in his office was only the tip of the iceberg judging from the dark aura he exhibited. Noctis just couldn’t put his finger on it, yet he felt the evil waves of energy drifting off him like radiation. That alone was enough to send shivers down his spine, ignoring Ardyn’s horrific ‘fascination’ with him.

Noctis had barely slept that night. It was a delight to see Prompto come bounding into their cell, overjoyed to be free of the punishment he was promised. When Noctis responded dimly, he had of course asked what the matter was, but was only given a dry laugh and an even dryer response. He could never tell him the truth. No doubt Prompto would be overcome with grief at his sacrifice.

Bottling it up wasn’t exactly easy, either. Almost going delirious, Noctis had to force himself to get started with his escape plan lest he truly lose his mind. Every waking thought was spent with Ardyn’s laughter in his mind, the feeling of fingers, and the feeling of filth when he had tried to wash his hair. It was always _there_ , in front of his face, every second of the day. It was _torture_. Torture that he couldn’t escape from, the threat of Ardyn an omnipresent force. The man could quite literally unlock his cell and have his way with him at any time he pleased. Noctis didn’t know why he was putting so much effort into dancing around and toying with him. Well, he’d toy with him until he eventually lost his carefully built composure. He was a strange being. One that Noctis hoped he’d never have to see again once he escaped.

His cell was his first target. The walls appeared old but held firm. The door was solid metal, with an electronic lock fastened on the outside. There was a pane of glass at the top, except it was barred off like the windows. There were vents, though they were far too small to crawl though. His windows looked like his best bet if he could get the bars off. How, exactly, was another matter, however there were plenty of tools in the labs.

When he was there next, Noctis surveyed his options. Once again building more MT parts, he had a selection of spanners, screwdrivers and other fiddly pieces. None of them would be enough to break those bars.

Scowling, he threw the tools down. Gladio glanced at him. “What’s up?”

“Say,” said Noctis, “what kind of tool would it take to cut through metal?”

“Depends what kind of metal,” said Gladio.

“Like a solid bar. Would you need bolt cutters?”

The older boy laughed. “Damn, you’re gonna need more than that to cut through a bar. You’d need a band saw, gloves, goggles, all the tricky stuff. Then you’d need to heat the bar up to actually cut through it.”

Hm, perhaps going through the window wasn’t an option. If Noctis had access to his Armiger, then that would be easy enough, but he didn’t. There was no way he’d be able to sneak all of that out of the laboratory considering Verstael had the eyes of a zu. Speaking of zus, he was going to have to get past that ghastly thing as well. For the moment, Noctis kept his thoughts to the interior of the building. It caused less of a headache. 

Another option was to jam the electronic lock.

While that seemed all good and dandy, he couldn’t reach it from the interior of his cell. He would have to damage it when no one was looking.

There were plenty of wire cutters knocking around. When the scientist had his head turned, Noctis slid one into his jacket pocket. They never checked for contraband often. Once a month or so, and the last check was the previous week. He had a big window of time to work with. It might not work, though if he could fuck the lock up, then he’d be able to get out of his cell at night.

Even without his magic, Noctis was an avid fighter. Taking care of a few guards wouldn’t be a problem. He was light on his feet and good at staying out of sight. If he got out of his cell, then he was positive that from then on out, the rest of the building wouldn’t be a problem. He had checked the hallways whenever he was in them. There were no doors to separate them other than the doors leading to rooms or outside. 

Clinging tightly to the wire cutters in his pocket, Noctis followed Gladio and Prompto out into the yard for their lunch break. Ignis later joined them. Even if his plan to damage the lock didn’t work, then they’d make for a good weapon in emergencies. Not that he’d risk using it, but waving it around would be enough to deter anyone wanting to mess with him again. Now that Ravus would be out of the water cell, Noctis was extra guarded. He was not going to let that albino twat get him into more trouble. After what happened with Ardyn, and with all the other shit Noctis had been forced to endure, he had had enough. There would be no more trauma between now and his escape. He was going to get out by the end of the week.

However, there was still the matter of his friends. Noctis was attached to them. The brotherhood they had formed to withstand the torture Vis Legis threw at them was strong. He could only imagine how furious they would be if he told them his plans, though his chest ached at the thought of leaving without them. He didn’t think he could do it.

When they all sat on one of the rickety wooden tables, one kick away from toppling over, Noctis cleared his throat. He knew, deep down, that he’d feel the most horrendous guilt if he went alone, so he was just going to have to convince them.

“Guys,” he started, “I want to let you all know I have a plan.”

“A plan for what?” said Gladio.

“A plan to get out of here. All four of us.”

They turned to him as if he had grown another head. While Gladio’s face contorted into rage and Prompto appeared stunned, Ignis kept his expression cool behind his glasses. Noctis shifted in his seat.

“What?! Is that why you were asking me about cutting metal earlier?” cried Gladio.

Prompto bit his lip, covering one part of his face with his hand to not look directly at Gladio’s outburst. “Noct, dude, I know this place sucks, but scrap that idea. Anything you try won’t be worth it!”

“Look, just hear me out. If I can—”

Gladio growled angrily, slamming his hands down on the table. “Prompto’s right. Noctis, I told you, you _can’t_ get out. Believe me, if there was a way, I would have fucking done so the moment I got here.”

He flinched at Gladio’s tone. His lips were bared in a snarl, clearly frustrated though unable to hold his emotions back. Prompto slid a few inches away from where he was sitting next to him. While the blond agreed, he was never one for confrontations. He was easily the softest one out of all of them. Noctis admired that he could keep that up in such an environment. Any other initially soft boy would have been broken or hardened beyond recognition by now. Meanwhile, Ignis continued to merely observe the situation, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of them.

It seemed Gladio was not done unleashing his fury. Noctis continued despite that, trying not to back down.

“I get it, man! But, really, this will work! I analysed the locks on the cell doors and—”

“No,” Gladio responded gruffly. He sank down in his seat. “Whatever you’re planning, I can’t help you. You’ll be skinned alive, Noct.”

Noctis felt the tears welling up in his eyes again. He was not angry at Gladio. He understood completely. If he didn’t know any better, if Ardyn wasn’t _abusing_ him like he was, then he’d probably just stay put too. But he couldn’t stay here! Not with that monster of a man lurking around every corner waiting to jump him. Noctis’ throat seized up as his stomach turned, getting a flashback to his time in his office. The feeling of Ardyn’s hand ripping his hair out, forcing him deeper onto his—

“Noctis?” Ignis’ gentle voice snapped him out of his emotional daze. “Are you alright?”

The group were staring at him. Gladio had calmed down in response to his upsetment. Swallowing down the sobs threatening to come out, Noctis clenched his fists and stared at his lap.

“I _can’t_ stay here.”

“Why not? I get the punishments aren’t nice, but it’s better than what they’d do to you if—”

_After all, you’re such an interesting specimen._

_What are you waiting for? Give me the performance expected of a prince._

_You really are a fine young man, aren’t you?_

In the span of a second, all the vile things Ardyn had said to him flooded his mind at once. Each word was darker than the next, finally pushing the terror right out of Noctis’ throat.

“ _BECAUSE OF_ **_ARDYN_ **!”

His cry echoed far more loudly than he intended. He hadn’t mean to shout, yet before he could stop himself, the crippling fear that had been tight around his neck, suffocating him every second of the day, become loosened. It was fear that took the form of Ardyn’s fingers, the same ones that had yanked on his head and touched him every chance they got. He was sick of him. Sick of that man. He never wanted to see him again, but he was going to have to if he was stuck here for the next 11 months, wasn’t he?

His friends were silent. They sat back, completely stunned. Even Gladio had gone quiet. Noctis instantly regretted what he had said. _Gods, how awkward_.

“What do you mean, because of Ardyn?” Ignis asked. His voice suddenly became low and dangerous. “Did he do something?”

What was he going to say now? Noctis hadn’t planned to tell them anything. Not because he didn’t trust them, or that he disliked them, or thought they were going to make fun of him, but the sheer embarrassment. The prince knew it wasn’t his fault, though how would they see it? Would they blame him for antagonising Ardyn? _Had_ he?

Knowing he couldn’t _not_ give an answer after that, Noctis slowly nodded.

“Well, what?” Gladio pressed in a softer tone than previously.

“He, um…” Gods, how was he going to word this? There was no way Noctis would admit to what exactly had occurred in his office that day, so he tried to figure out how to water it down a tad. “He just… he keeps _touching_ me. Like, I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but he does it all the time. What if he tries something?”

Of course, Ardyn already had, though they didn’t know. He hoped they never would.

“What do you mean, he touches you?” said Gladio. 

“Um, I mean, like—he, uh… in _that_ way.” 

Noctis cringed at how much he stuttered.

“You’re telling us he’s sexually harassing you?” Ignis’ words sounded vulgar when he heard them, though it was just a blunt question. He wasn’t wrong. Again, Noctis nodded wordlessly.

The group glanced at each other. Gladio’s fury had all but disappeared for an expression of concern, his brow furrowed and his jaw tense. Prompto had shrunken in on himself, clearly shocked. Ignis remained as calm as ever though Noctis noticed his eyes narrowed. What were they thinking? Were they judging him? Did they not believe him? Suddenly, Noctis felt very silly. He shouldn’t have said anything about Ardyn. He should have kept his reasons simple. 

“Fuckin’ knew that guy was a creep,” he heard Gladio grumble. He folded his arms, his tattooed eagle wings stretching over his skin.

“Um, are… are you good?” Prompto said quietly. Noctis gave him a small smile of appreciation. 

Ignis was the last to speak. “I see. Well, I can’t blame you for wanting to escape, but I don’t think you realise the dangers, Noct. If you are caught, the consequences will be severe. Whatever Ravus experienced for throwing those chemicals on you will not compare. Are you sure you want to risk that?”

He considered Ignis’ warning, but then Ardyn’s laughter echoed in his hears again. Noctis shuddered.

“I have to, Ignis.”

“Then tell us your plan.”

* * *

 

Wire cutters safely concealed in his pocket, Noctis went to his next lesson in a better mood than he had been in for a long time. While he still felt terrible, his experiences like a permanent mask blinding him, he felt _hope_. That hope shimmered like a star in an empty sky, calling him forth, acting as his only guide, and by gods, he was going to follow that star. 

He was surprised Gladio had actually shut up to listen to him. He had said nothing more about Ardyn, and thankfully they didn’t push for more information. Neither of them seemed entirely convinced when he showed them the wire cutters, though after some more pressing, Ignis then shared what information he knew about Vis Legis.

Their escape plan consisted of four stages. The first stage would be to jam the lock on his and Prompto’s door before the guards came to lock it for the night. Gladio had suggested he grab a screwdriver to take the lock apart, so he had crept back into one of the labs to get one. He had to be more careful with it, seeing as it stuck out of his uniform quite obviously, but if Noctis walked in a certain way or removed his jacket, then he could hide it. So long as he kept his head down, he was confident a guard wouldn’t stop him.

The second stage would be to find Gladio and Ignis’ cell. They were at cell number 217, which was thankfully not too far from 206. After quickly checking earlier, it was only one hallway down. Once they got them out, it was up to them all to take care of any lingering guards. As they were all decent fighters with knowledge of self defense and martial arts, that wouldn’t be too difficult as long as they did so stealthily. They were aware Noctis couldn’t use his magic, and during their training lessons, he was becoming adjusted to using a sword manually. Of course he didn’t have a sword, except he _did_ have his hands. One could do a lot of damage with their bare fists.

Stage three would be to get out of the main building. If tackling the guards went well, then getting their key cards would be child’s play. Unfortunately, there was not much they could do about the security cameras, except to try and keep out of their direct line of sight as much as possible. The office the footage lead to was kept high above in one of the building’s large towers. They wouldn’t have time to go all the way up there and hijack it. Finally, the fourth stage would be to get out of Vis Legis’ territories once and for all. Their two possible routes consisted of scaling the wire mesh fence of their training grounds and run directly through the forest. The other route was to find a way around the main gate into the vast open plains to the east, but that didn’t seem likely. Everyone had voted on going through the forest.

Ignis knew Vis Legis like the back of his hand. Since he had worked several late hour jobs before, he was aware of how many guards were likely to be about at night. It was far less than during the day, however they still had to be wary. He was quick to map out the fastest exit from the dorms and then around to the training yard. Scaling the fence would require them to throw their jackets over the barbed wire to protect them, which was something straight out of a prison breakout movie. Cool as all hell, as Prompto had quoted.

Gladio and Prompto weren’t as keen, but once even Ignis seemed confident, they had slowly agreed. Noctis was glad, because the last thing he wanted to do was to leave them behind.

He was alone for this lesson. It was history, though since his class had been full due to some schedule swapping, Noctis was taken and shoved in to another room. That seemed fine until he spotted a familiar mop of white hair sitting at the back.

Of course, Ravus was present once again. Noctis immediately tensed, ready for him to attack. Except he didn’t need to worry. Ravus didn’t look up. He sat there, silently, eyes blank and glassy. Noctis couldn’t understand why until he remembered what his punishment had been. He’d witnessed it himself, after all, right in front of him. He was then sentenced to an entire week in the water cell. Had they really kept him there for that long?

Noctis snuck glances at him for the next two hours. Ravus hardly moved. When the lesson was over, he got up stiffly and headed for the door. 

He shouldn’t care. Noctis had been through hell because of Ravus. So what was that guilty feeling in his gut? He wanted to feel the hate, the disgust, though all Noctis could see when he looked at him was his younger self, the one that Noctis knew as a good friend. While often blunt and rough around the edges, he knew Ravus wasn’t a bad person. Not truly.

“Ravus,” he called out.

Turning, Ravus’ blank expression did not change upon seeing Noctis’ face. He didn’t say anything.

“Are you okay? You were in the water cell for a while.” His words came out far more awkward than it had sounded in his head. Noctis winced internally, somewhat embarrassed. The embarrassment didn’t go away as Ravus spent a long time staring at him before turning away, grunting.

“That is none of your concern.”

Noctis spun in front of him before he could walk away. “Why do you hate me so much? We used to know each other.”

“Is it not obvious?” Ravus scoffed, pushing him aside. “Your father lost the war, giving us no chance of fleeing this godforsaken empire in the future. We’re doomed, and your cursed family is to blame.”

Anger surged through the prince’s chest. He could understand Ravus’ predicament, really, yet why would he blame the empire’s actions on the Lucis Caelums? They had been desperate for peace just like everyone else, and it was nobody’s fault but Niflheim’s when they took over Insomnia. Noctis once again grabbed Ravus by the arm, spinning him around so that they were forced to lock eyes. He’d had enough of this guy being a dick when he didn’t have to be. Both of them were in the same boat, so why was he being so hostile?

“Get off me!” Ravus snarled, yanking his arm back. “Because of you, I continue to be trapped here! _Lunafreya_ continues to be trapped here!”

Pain flashed across his features. Noctis stepped back in surprise.

In his time here, Noctis had almost forgotten about Luna. It had been an awfully long time since he’d seen her, and with everything that was going on it was hard to recall childhood memories. Except after seeing the pain in Ravus’ eyes, dread settled in the bottom of Noctis’ stomach. Something terrible must have happened to her.

“Where is Luna now?” he asked, voice just above a whisper.

It seemed Ravus was hesitant to answer, but he did so anyway. “In another one of these facilities. I don’t know where. We were separated when we arrived.”

 _Fuck_. Was Luna alright? Was she being tortured as they were? The thought of her in pain was too much to bear, Noctis frowning. She was such a sweet girl. Softer than even Prompto. There was no way she was getting by any better than they were. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Just stay out of my way.” Ravus sniffed before he turned to leave. This time, Noctis didn’t stop him.

He guessed that confirmed his theory that Ravus wasn’t a complete asshole. He could understand his frustration. Even Noctis felt deep sated worry over his childhood friend, despite not having seen her in years. Not to mention, if she was at a girls facility, then the sexual abuse had to be rampant. He shivered in disgust. When he got out, he’d have to go and fetch her once he found himself on more stable ground. When Lucis got back up on their feet, he’d have _everyone_ rescued.

That evening, he spent as much time as he could studying the electronic lock outside his cell.

It didn’t seem that high-tech considering they were pretty much in a jailhouse. There was a keypad, and then a slot where one would run a card through. There was a panel underneath that could be unscrewed. Well, that’s where the screwdriver would come in. Underneath, Noctis assumed to be all the wires. He would just slice them all instead of trying to figure out which one actually controlled the lock. Then, all he had to do was wait until midnight.

They’d gone over their plan a thousand times in the next few days. Ignis had reported that it was far less busy on the weekend, so they had opted to wait until Friday night. In the meantime, Noctis had been very careful to avoid the Chancellor. That man could have absolutely no idea of what they were up to, because he would ruin everything. It didn’t take a genius to know he was cunning. There was no doubt he would crush their hopes in an instant if he had any idea of what they were planning. 

Thus, when Friday night rolled around, Noctis could hardly keep still. This was it.

In the cafeteria, finishing up his dinner, Gladio let out a deep sigh. “I’m still not keen on this. What if it goes wrong?”

“It won’t,” said Ignis. “I wouldn’t go through with it if I wasn’t confident. After all, we cannot just ignore the fact that the Chancellor is abusing Noctis.”

Noctis didn’t like the word ‘abuse’. It was correct, but, _ugh_ , he didn’t know. It made him feel weak.

“Well, if you’re sure, Iggy, then I guess I’ll have to go with you. Can’t have my roommate fending for himself out there without me.”

It was nice that he valued the group as much as Noctis valued them.

In their cell, Prompto was jittery. He rocked back and forth on his bed, attempting to do his homework to pass the time, although Noctis had said there was no need. They’d be out of here in a few hours. 

“I’m scared, Noct,” he whispered. “Are you absolutely positive you wanna do this? Like, if Ardyn’s being creepy, won’t he just… go after you more? Where are we even gonna go if we do get out?”

The prince admittedly hadn’t thought of that. He was planning on going back to his dad and then encouraging him to go on the run, however his dad was getting on a bit. He had a bad leg and all the other problems associated with age. Still, Noctis was determined. They would have to make do.

“It’ll be fine, Prom. Just stick with me.”

Right before the clock struck eight, signalling the beginning of their curfew, Noctis slipped out and scrambled to rip the lock open. The cheap plastic gave way without much fuss, revealing a tangle of wires and motherboards beneath. Skipping the delicacies, Noctis plunged the head of the wire cutters straight in. The lock sparked, but thankfully did not electrocute him. When he put the cover back on, he noticed the small green light signalling its activation was gone. _Perfect_.

While the next four hours were agonisingly long, Noctis was following that star of hope. It was so close now, its brilliant white embers within reach. He reached out to touch it when midnight rolled around, and he gripped the handle of the cell door.

It opened.

Stage one was now officially in action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me at vis legis: oh no uwu... chief besithwia (reminder that he is young blond and handsome).... i seem to have dwopped my wowk.... i need to be taken to ur offwice to be p-pwunished.... pwease be gentle...


	11. Faux Pas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis and his friends take on the obstacles Vis Legis has to offer them during their escape.

**** “This is  _ so _ not gonna work,” Prompto muttered, biting his nails as he crept down the dark corridor alongside Noctis.

Once out of their cell, they had found the hallway to be completely pitch black. The cameras glowed with their red lights, swivelling back and forth across the hall. They pressed themselves up against the wall whenever they swept over them, and moved only when they turned their deadly gazes. It was nerve wracking, but they had to be thankful that Vis Legis only had so many cameras in one area. If there were more, then they would either have to sprint on their way out or not bother at all.

“Keep quiet,” Noctis responded. He kept his eyes sharp, fingers twitching at every noise. He wasn’t going to be caught out. He made sure Prompto remained behind him as they navigated their way to the corner, making a right.

They watched as the numbers on the cell doors raised from 206 and onwards. They passed 215, 216, and then finally, 217. Ignis and Gladio’s room.

Noctis repeated the process with the lock. Rip off the panel, give it a stab, and then cover it. He watched eagerly as the light faded. Gripping the door handle, he cautiously opened it.

As all lights turned off automatically, it was shrouded in darkness, though it seemed that the two were already awake. Awaiting their arrival, no doubt.

“My gods, you actually came,” Gladio said in astonishment. Ignis appeared just as bewildered.

“You succeeded in breaking the locks?”

“Told you,” Noct smugly said. He waved the wire cutters in front of them. “Now, Ignis, lead the way out.”

Now moving as a larger group, they had to tread more carefully. Avoiding the cameras was one thing, as it was out of the dorms that the majority of the guards patrolled. Ignis had already informed them with a hastily drawn map of where he’d predicted they’d be. If he was correct, then there would be one just outside of this section.

Vis Legis was made up of many cell blocks, but for now, they only had to worry about three. The dorms, the main entryway and then the outdoor area. Of course, they would not be going through the main entrance, though they still needed to be wary of the patrols. Ignis knew for sure that there was one being performed in front of the entrance. The plan was to sneak around the main part by going past the cafeteria. They were thankful that Ignis had a card to get him through the workers only doors since he worked there so often. Without him, they’d be surely doomed.

The man in question was right after all. Through the frosted glass, they saw the shadow of a single guard, leaning against the door frame, presumably bored.

“How are we gonna get rid of him?” Prompto whispered.

“I’ll do it,” Gladio said. “You and Noct hide behind the corner. Iggy, help me out.”

The younger two watched from their hiding place as Gladio ducked down beside the door. Ignis had pressed himself up against it, and then gently tapped his finger against the glass. The guard immediately perked up.

“Who’s there?” he growled. Opening the door, he went to pull out his metal baton before Gladio leapt on him. A strong hand slapped over his mouth as they tumbled to the floor. Ignis assisted in keeping him down as Gladio then made a quick jab on one of the man’s pressure points, knocking him out cold.

This really was a scene straight out of a movie. Prompto’s fear had temporarily disappeared in favour of awe. “Dude, that was dope as  _ hell _ !”

Gladio grinned at the sight of the unconscious guard. “Gotta admit, that felt good.”

No wonder it did. Noctis felt some envy. His knuckles cracked, eager to break a few necks. He couldn’t wait to get his hands one some bastard guard and knock him the fuck out like this one. If only Ardyn and Verstael were so easy to find. No doubt they were both safe and sound in their private quarters like the cowards they were. The prince huffed to himself. Let them rot there.

They ended up tossing the guard into a storage closet after taping his hands and legs together. Good thing there were plenty of supply cupboards knocking around. Ignis took the metal baton and kept a firm grip on it for later use.

“How’d you learn how to do that?” Noctis asked.

“Some training I did a few years ago. Admittedly, that was the first time I’ve used it.”

“There’s no time to dawdle,” said Ignis. “We must press on.”

Outside of the dorms consisted of the many winding hallways Noctis had found himself lost in many times before. In the dark, they looked even more labyrinthine. How anyone managed to memorise them was beyond him. Even now, he’d have to follow Prompto in case he accidentally made the wrong turn. He hung out at the back of the group as Ignis scouted for cameras. There weren’t too many in this part, so their movements consisted of darting from one end of the corridor to the other. It was incredibly quiet. Noctis could hear his own heart thudding in his ears.

They quickly arrived at the second section of their plan. The cafeteria was just up ahead. Iin the pitch blackness, Noctis could make out the double doors surrounded by a thick wooden arch. They were bolted shut. 

“There may be another guard around here,” Ignis whispered softly, holding a finger to his lips. “Tread very carefully.”

Noctis felt like he was going to pass out with how much he was holding his breath. Prompto had told him not to, that he should gently breathe (he’d seen a lot of assassin movies) though he felt like he was risking it. Then again, when he loudly exhaled, Gladio gave him a kick as a reminder to stay quiet. 

Once again correct, Ignis stopped them before they could go any further. A guard was pacing in and out of the nearby rooms. However, he did not look very focused on his job. He flicked his gaze from his phone to the floor, mindlessly swinging his baton. Perfect.

“On the count of three,” Gladio said. “I’ll grab him, Noct will help me push him down and then you two keep him there. One, two…”

Their blood froze as they heard Prompto accidentally scuff his foot against the floor. 

The guard almost dropped his phone. He whirled around. 

“Oh, fuck it.” Gladio launched himself at him like a rocket. He pulled the unsuspecting guard into a side door, which ended up being an empty classroom. They were fortunate they avoided knocking over any tables and chairs. 

“You little shits!” the guard hissed as he writhed. Noctis leapt forwards and grabbed his kicking legs. “How the fuck did you get out? I’ll have it seen that —”

It was now Ignis’ turn to knock him out with his newly acquired baton. With a resigned thump, the guard’s eyes drifted shut as he was sent straight to dreamland.

“What did we say about keeping  _ quiet _ , you dolt?” Gladio snapped at poor Prompto.

The blond shrugged with a guilty smile. “I mean, we got him, didn’t we?”

They all rolled their eyes. That was way too close. They repeated the same process with this guard, though since they were in a classroom for design technology, they found rope. They used the tape that Prompto had been carrying to clamp the man’s mouth shut. Flinging him into a cupboard, Gladio wiped his hands down on his trousers and then grabbed  _ his _ baton. What a night so far, and it hadn’t even been half an hour. 

After that, getting around the cafeteria was fairly easy. Ignis used his card to get them into the kitchen, which was a direct cut through the room and out into the other side. The metal surfaces of the kitchenware gleamed in the darkness. Noctis considered snatching a knife from the cupboards, but Gladio pulled him out of the room before he could. He said he hadn’t wanted to waste time, especially since the guards would eventually wake up. They’d tied and gagged them, though it wouldn’t keep them there forever. 

That only left one more section to get through. The training yard was not too far away, only kept from them by two more doors. The first one was simple enough to get through, yet the one leading to the outside was locked.

Unfortunately, it was not the same lock as the ones outside their cell doors. Noctis had a look, fumbling for any way to use the wire cutters, except it was built straight into the wall. Old fashioned and reliable.

“Now what?” he growled, putting his hands on his hips.

“There are several other exits around here,” commented Ignis. “We’ll have to try those.”

“We don’t have time for this!” Gladio was quickly becoming impatient. Noctis couldn’t really blame him. 

“What about the exit to the laboratory?” Prompto suggested. They looked at him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Like, y’know, where my dad works. I’m pretty sure that one has an electronic lock.”

Huh. If that was the case, then Noctis could give it the wire cutter treatment. Changing their plan, this time they allowed Prompto to lead the way. They had to take a detour back around a few corners, except when they came back to the cafeteria block, they went straight up instead. Noctis recalled following Verstael this way when Ravus had thrown those chemicals on him. Usually, they would go around the outside as to keep traffic to a minimum inside the building.

Prompto was right. The door was made of bullet-proof glass, not that they’d try and risk breaking it anyway. The lock was different to the cell block ones, though it had the same unscrewable panel. Noctis was quick to remove it and then thrust the wire cutters deep into the tangled mess of wires. However, the lock’s on button did not flicker out. After Gladio tried to open the door, it remained locked.

“For fuck’s sake!”

“Calm down. Think, what else can we do?” Ignis, the ever-calm one, did his best to keep everyone chilled out.

Noctis took his time staring at the cursed lock. He noticed that there was a small scanner screen at the top, just above where the panel had been resting. It was probably joined to another system if cutting the wires hadn’t done the trick.

“Uh, maybe… this will do it?”

They all turned to see Prompto stepping up. He held up his right wrist. Noctis frowned in confusion. There was what looked like a small barcode imprinted on it. It was too small to make out, but he saw the numbers lining it. How had he not noticed it before?

Prompto held his wrist to the lock’s scanner. It flashed green, trying to read whatever he had imprinted on his skin, before the green light changed to white.

By gods, it fucking  _ opened _ .

“How the…” Noctis trailed off as Ignis pushed the door open. 

“Trade secret!” Prompto squeaked as he bolted out. It seemed they all wanted to ask what the hell he’d done, yet there was no time. Now that they were outside of the main building, they would have to get a move on. The longer they spent knocking around, then the likelihood that cameras would spot them increased. But what Noctis wouldn’t give to ask his friend  _ sooooo _ many questions right now. He’d pulled some voodoo magic shit right out of thin air. 

The prince immediately pulled his jacket tighter. It was  _ freezing _ . They hadn’t heard it from indoors, but the wind was howling and the trees were hissing with it. The sky was clear, giving way to a glorious sight of the half moon and the stars surrounding it.  _ Man _ , Noctis thought. Insomnia had never given him the pleasure of seeing the sky so clearly at night. He could stare up at it for hours, if it wasn’t for the fact it was so cold and he was in the middle of escaping a prison facility.

As the moon provided them with precious light, they made out the high mesh fence that cut them off from their freedom. Peering around, Noctis caught sight of the many watchtowers glinting in the distance, no doubt looking out for escapees just like him. Too bad they wouldn’t see him from all the way over there. He also spotted some guards patrolling not too far away, but again, they’d never see them from where they were positioned. They’d immediately darted into the clump of dead bushes near the lab, and then proceeded to hug the walls of the cubed building.

Gladio was the first to stop before the fence. He took off his uniform jacket, not even flinching at the raging wind, and promptly threw it over the top. He had to jump right off the ground to make sure it landed over the barbed wire. It wouldn’t make the best protection, though it was better than scaling it with bare hands.

“Prom, you first.”

Gladio laid out his hands for Prompto to step into. Once the blond pressed his weight down, Gladio heaved him up. Prompto wasn’t tall enough to reach the top, so he had to cling on the mesh and slowly crawl up. He yelped as some of the barbed wire poked at him.

“You good?” Noctis shouted up.

Prompto gave him a thumbs up as he finally reached it. He very carefully dragged himself up with his hands, and then swung one leg over. He gracelessly fell to the ground with a yelp.

“Okay, Noct, you next.” Noctis nodded as he then repeated the process. He was shocked at Gladio’s strength. The man didn’t make a sound as he hoisted him upwards to grab on to the mesh, keeping him steady until he got a firm grip. Now that Noctis could see why Prompto had been so cautious, he was very careful to put his foot in between the holes in the fence so that he wouldn’t slip. It was way harder than it looked. The barbed wire stung against his skin as he knelt on the jacket, and he was sure he was going to have to deal with some puncture wounds later on. Still, it was nothing to what he had endured back in Vis Legis. Good riddance to that hellhole.

Ignis went third, and thanks to his long legs, he scaled the fence quite easily. He dropped down besides the other two and watched as Gladio made a running leap and jumped half way up. Man was like a goddamn tiger.

Prompto was shaking furiously. He held his hands to his face, completely bewildered. “We’re out! We’re actually  _ out _ !”

“That was… anticlimactic,” said Noctis.

“The problem isn’t the fence, it’s getting out of the building. Still, I’m surprised there weren’t that many guards,” said Gladio.

“We’re not out of the woods yet. Quite literally, too,” said Ignis as he adjusted his glasses. They turned around to see the forest looming ahead of them. The fir trees swayed in the wind, although they would provide a lot of cover for them to move through it.

“Alright, come on, guys. We’re so close! Let’s keep going!” Noctis did his best to encourage them. Prompto’s fear had not left but he looked a lot more excited than he had earlier. Even Gladio was stunned they’d got this far.

The suspicious thing was that it was  _ too _ easy.

Doubt swirled in Noctis’ mind as he pushed past the branches. Two measly guards and a lock Prompto was able to get through with his weird barcode? He’d have to ask him about that later, but was that all they had to face?  _ Anyone _ could have grabbed some wire cutters and jabbed their cell locks open. Anyone, as long as they were quick-witted, could have snuck through the building at night considering the guards were so few in number and were hardly what Noctis would call ‘well-trained’. Still, he wasn’t going to dismiss his blessings. They were out of the main building and finally proceeding to the last stage of their plan; get the fuck out of Vis Legis for good.

“I can’t help feeling there’ll be more obstacles up ahead.” It seemed Ignis had the same thoughts.

“Don’t worry, Ig. If I can get far enough away to use my magic, getting out will be a piece of cake.”

At least, that’s what Noctis hoped. He had no idea how far the magic-barrier reached, though when he called for his Armiger, he felt it weakening. Not enough for him to summon his sword, yet enough to realise that they were close to the outside perimeters.

Nothing could go wrong now, right?

Until a shriek pierced their ears, almost deafening them completely.

“Above us!” Prompto yelled.

They threw themselves to the ground as something crashed before them. The dim lights of Vis Legis was barely enough to illuminate it, but Noctis couldn’t mistake its fanged beak and enormous wings.

The guard zu.

He swore out loud. How could he have forgotten about  _ that _ ? The creature screeched again and beat its wings, creating a wind even stronger than the hurricane around them. Its tail lashed back and forth, making it clear that it had found its target. 

Upon closer look. Noctis’ heart sank. The zu was in bad condition. Its feathers were patchy, flaking away at its joints and head in particular, and he winced when he saw its bald spots were covered in wounds. Old and new blood soaked into the white fluff around its chest. Well, it would have been white, yet time had stained it a light brown. A thick electronic collar was strapped around its neck, chafing its skin and leaving angry red marks beneath it. As Ignis had mentioned before, a device, presumably to track it, was shackled to its foot. Noctis could only feel pity for the beast. It was an abused victim, just like them.

“Crap!” he heard Gladio curse. “Why is it out  _ now _ ? I thought zus were diurnal!”

“Not this one, apparently,” replied Ignis, wielding the baton he had snatched earlier. 

Hissing, the zu jabbed its beak forward. It crashed into the spot where Gladio had just been standing.

“Prompto, do something! You like birds, don’t you?” Noctis yelled to the blond nearby.

“Yeah, chocobos! Not  _ zus _ !” he wailed back in despair. “It’s gonna fucking  _ eat us _ !”

He didn’t know about that, but its jaws were big enough to snap them in two if it wanted. He knew zus were carnivorous, yet hopefully this one hadn’t developed a taste for humans in its time being captive. Had it ever been free? No, Ignis said it was trained from birth. What a dreadful life for a such a magnificent creature to live.

However, now was probably not the time to be feeling sorry for it. The zu used the firs around it to steady itself, preparing to snatch one of them up in its talons. They couldn’t afford to be caught when they had come so far.

“It’s no use trying to fight it. Everyone, run!” Ignis hollered. They didn’t argue.

The excitement now replaced with terror, Noctis raced through the forest, the sound of trees crashing right behind him. Since it was too dense for the zu to grab them, it settled for sticking its head through the canopy of leaves while it chased them. Noctis nearly had his limbs torn off for every time the zu’s beak stabbed the space around him. One false move and it would be over, though he couldn’t afford to slow down and actually look where he was going.

“You guys ok?!” he yelled out.

Only Prompto replied. “Uh, just about!”

“Where’s Ignis and Gladio?”

“I think they’re up ahead!”

Damn. They couldn’t be separated at a time like this. If only Noctis had his fucking magic, then he’d be able to fight the zu off. Perhaps not permanently, but a few well-timed warp strikes would be enough to throw it off course. Oh, how he missed warping whenever he desired. He had no idea how people ran normally for so long.

Noctis then tripped over a branch and was sent flying into a clearing. He collided straight into Ignis, and sent the pair of them crashing to the floor. 

“Shit, Iggy, are you okay?”

Ignis grunted in response. He fumbled for his glasses, only for his fingers to land upon broken glass. He’d crushed them when he had fallen. Noctis helped him up, beginning to apologise, but Ignis merely grabbed him and dragged him back into the safety of the undergrowth. The zu landed in the clearing just as they dove for cover, screeching in fury.

“How are we going to escape it?” Noctis asked, panting for breath. “It’ll only keep chasing us down!”

“From what I’ve heard, zus have excellent eyesight. It probably distinguishes us by our uniforms. Keep low to the ground and in the shadows. I believe their hearing is not as good, so be thankful the wind is so strong tonight.”

That would make sense. The stark white fabric of their uniforms made them very hard to miss despite the darkness. Following Ignis’ advice, Noctis slowed to a crawl and allowed the dirt to cake him for some extra cover. Not that he wanted to be covered in mud, but it was better than ending up as zu chow. Just several metres away, he caught sight of a mop of blond hair and a baton shimmering in the light. 

“Thank gods you two are okay,” Noctis said as he approached them. Prompto was on the verge of tears and Gladio wiped his sweaty brow.

“Now what, genius? How do you propose getting rid of that?”

“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die,” Prompto sobbed to himself.

After they were instructed to dirty their uniforms, the four sat within the bushes, listening to the sounds of the zu hunting them down. Its squawks echoed, carried by the wind. They were going to be stuck here if they didn’t take care of it.

It suddenly went pitch black. They had not gotten far from Vis Legis, but the lights surrounding the building were switched off. Fuck, had they noticed they were missing already? Even with the moon, it was now impossible to see  _ anything _ .

They did, however, see the zu’s talon stomping down onto them. Noctis, Ignis and Gladio managed to leap out of the way in time, but Prompto was too slow. He shrieked as he was pinned to the earth by wicked claws.

“Oh, jeez, Prompto!” Gladio cried. He raced forwards to try and beat the talons with his baton, though it hardly fazed the zu. It had Prompto well and truly trapped.

“Just run!” the blond shouted. “Go on, you’re so close!”

“I’m not leaving you here, moron!”

Noctis was about to jump in and help out before a gunshot rang out.

A real gun.

He scrambled back at the horrific noise. He couldn’t see, but he sure as hell heard Gladio let out a scream of agony. Who the fuck had that been?!

Could he risk finding out? Noctis wasn’t even thinking, his fight or flight response kicking in for him. His legs had pushed him up and were now sprinting in the opposite direction. He didn’t want to leave them! He tried to think, to stop himself and help them, though his legs had other ideas. They forced him to press on through the dark forest despite the sounds of his friends in pain breaking his heart. Despite  _ wanting _ to help them, his body could only think about the horrors that would be inflicted on him if he was caught.

But where was he going? Noctis had slammed into more trees than he could count, not knowing which direction was which. He just had to hope it wasn’t back towards Vis Legis.

He was forced to skid to a stop when he saw a flash of purple ahead of him.

Daemons.

How was he supposed to deal with a daemon?! Noctis had all but forgotten the vile creatures would crawl around at night, thriving in the darkest of shadows. Of course this place would have them. With the overhead lights off, they had the perfect opportunity to come out and play.

Noctis uselessly gripped the wire cutters. It was his only means of defense. He wished he’d gotten a knife from the kitchens. He watched, eyes wide, as magenta sparks flickered into the air where the daemon was manifesting. Dark wisps curled up into a large form. The ghastly creature dove forward in a flurry of smoke and knocked Noctis off his feet. He yelped as it began to materialise right on top of him. Please, not an Iron Giant. That would mean the end of him. 

Except, what appeared was worse. The subject of all his nightmares, the bane of existence. Pure, unrelenting  _ horror _ gripped Noctis’ throat as he released a strangled cry.

Looming above him, black sludge dripping from his eyes, Ardyn sneered triumphantly.

“ _ Found you _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bitch you thought


	12. Uncrowned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ardyn punishes the group of four in the best ways he sees fit - noncon warning.

**** Finding himself in Ardyn’s office was beginning to become part of a regular routine.

Noctis let out a cry of pain as he was thrown to the floor. His head hurt from where he had been practically dragged back, bringing forth all the excruciating memories of the last time he was in this cursed room. Ardyn only smirked at how Noctis tried to scramble to his feet. 

“Really, Noct? I can hardly believe you attempted something so utterly  _ futile _ . Just as soon as you were becoming nicely settled, too.”

Nicely settled? Noctis allowed his upper lip to curl up into a snarl. Still on the floor, lying on his side and propping himself up with his arms, he gave the Chancellor the hardest glare he could muster. This fucker had abused him ever since he set foot in here, and now he was going to say he was  _ settled _ ? He had never met a more infuriating man in his life.

“Fuck you! As if I’d ever—”

He was cut off into a wheeze as Ardyn kicked him off balance and held his boot to his neck. He ground down, crushing Noctis’ windpipe like a straw.

When he had been too terrified to move upon seeing Ardyn manifest right before his eyes, he found himself captured quite easily. The wire cutters had fell from his hands as he was pinned to the floor. At first, he believed the black oozing from Ardyn’s eyes to be his imagination, before he felt it  _ drip _ onto his cheek. Whatever this man was, he was not human. Not fully. Noctis didn’t have the chance to ask before he was dragged kicking and screaming by guards straight back to Vis Legis. Ardyn had trailed behind them at a relaxed pace. Whatever had happened to his friends, Noctis didn’t know. The last thing he had seen of them was the zu’s foot holding Prompto down and Gladio’s cry of pain as he was shot. For all he knew, they could be dead. Because of  _ him _ . Because of his dumb idea to escape! If they really were dead, then Noctis would never forgive himself. 

It seemed like Ardyn knew exactly how he was feeling, and was refusing to put his mind at ease. While the creepy daemonic aura had faded, Noctis still couldn’t see him any other way. All he saw was a monster towering above him.

“How could do such a thing?” he uttered with a tsk at the end. “Your poor friends are hurt because of you! What _ ever _ am I to do with you now?”

Let him go? Drop the nice guy act? Noctis could think of a million things he’d like Ardyn to do, but he knew he wouldn’t do a single one of them. It was like he existed for his torture here. He sucked in a breath once the oppressive boot was removed from his throat, though Ardyn didn’t give him any time to recuperate. 

Legs dangling in the air, Noctis grappled at the hands lifting him up. Ardyn was no less terrifying from this angle, either. He practically  _ drank _ in the sight of Noctis’ fear.

“If… if you’ve touched them,” Noctis coughed, “I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking  _ kill _ you.”

“Such harsh words for someone in your position. I wonder if you can measure up to your threats, dear prince.”

He was dropped to the floor once again. Ardyn took a few steps away, clearly in no rush and with no concern that Noctis could  _ possibly _ run. The prince eyed the door, yet he knew it was locked. They always were.

“I do have to admit, your little runaway attempt did make my night a tad more interesting,” said Ardyn. “Where on earth did you get those wire cutters from?”

Should he answer? Noctis growled, picking himself up to sit as Ardyn eyed him carefully. While he was beyond devastated that he had failed, the emotions were swirling and writhing into rage. The anger burned the back of his throat and boiled his blood. “From the lab. Maybe you should train your staff to keep an eye on their things.”

The Chancellor laughed. “How  _ ingenius _ of you.”

The sarcasm dripped from his tongue like the black ooze had from his eyes. Well, it was true. Noctis knew from the start that things had been a bit too easy. If he had snatched up those tools so simply, then there was no doubt other boys had done so in the past. How hadn’t they noticed it yet?

“How the fuck did you even find us?” snarled Noctis. 

“Oh, you underestimate me, Noct.” A thin smile crept onto Ardyn’s lips. “I saw the moment you opened your cell door. You think you avoided the cameras? They work just as well at night as they do during the day. The only reason I waited so long to collect you was because I was—let’s call it  _ curious _ —to see how far you’d get. And lo and behold, you almost got there! You were  _ so  _ close!”

His maniacal chortling was akin to nails on a chalkboard. Noctis hung his head, the anger from moments ago dissipating along with his hope. Ardyn knew the whole time. They had only climbed the fence because he was  _ toying _ with them. That ray of hope, that star that Noctis diligently chased—it was never even there in the first place. Desperately he tried to blink back the tears that were forming. He would not give this monster the satisfaction of seeing him cry. However, it appeared as if Ardyn noticed anyway.

Noctis clenched his teeth as Ardyn knelt down beside him. He tried to pull his head away, but Ardyn caught his chin in a vice grip. He cooed condescendingly.

“Aw, don’t look so dejected. It’s the thought that counts, hm?”

That was _ it _ .

“No, it’s  _ this _ that counts!” 

Noctis suddenly yelled as he ripped his head out of Ardyn’s grasp, and threw himself at him. Ardyn was so surprised he allowed himself to be knocked backwards with an ‘oof’ as he hit the floor. He didn’t hold back. Raising his arm, Noctis tightened his fist as hard as he possibly could before aiming it right for Ardyn’s jaw. He didn’t care if this man happened to be an actual daemon, he was going to get at least one hit in.  _ This _ , he thought,  _ is for what you fucking did to me _ ! 

Gasping when he felt Ardyn catch his fist effortlessly, Noctis watched as he merely cackled. He could feel the deep rumble vibrating through Ardyn’s chest.

“So that’s how it’s going to be.”

His amber eyes gleamed in the dim light as he pushed Noctis off. In perhaps another universe, or if he was another person entirely, Noctis  _ may _ have found his eyes alluring, except he wasn’t. He didn’t allow the prince to get up before dragging him around to the back of the desk. Hauling him up, he threw Noctis straight onto the desk itself, face up. Noctis winced as the hard wood knocked the air out of him. His head was partially leaning over the side, so he was forced to hold it up as Ardyn loomed overhead.

Fear gripped his heart. Whatever Ardyn had planned, a part of Noctis knew that it was going to be the worst thing he had done yet. He swallowed heavily in the vain attempt to push down the unrelenting terror.

“You really  _ must _ push a man’s patience, mustn’t you?” the Chancellor said darkly.

“Get off. Get the fuck off,” Noctis snapped back. He was done putting up with Ardyn’s shit. If he was going to be punished, then he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

When Ardyn’s head raised, Noctis expected him to take a swing at him, but instead, his breath hitched in his throat as he felt him press his face into his neck. It was the exact same scenario as the time he had cornered him in that hallway all those weeks ago. Ardyn did nothing at present, only breathing in the young prince’s scent. Noctis found himself frozen. To be fair, there was not much he could do in such a position, though he found that he couldn’t even try to push Ardyn off. His hands rested uselessly on the man’s shoulders instead.

Ardyn then moved from Noctis’ neck to face him directly. Seeing him so close was bizarre, yet Noctis didn’t get the time to think about it before he felt Ardyn’s lips press against his.

What the _ fuck _ .

Should he be surprised? Ardyn had been harassing him for weeks, and only days ago, had forced him to give him a blowjob. Noctis had tried his best to repress the cursed memory, so admitting it in his mind sent a jolt of horror down his spine. Honestly, kissing was  _ mild _ compared to that. Except, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of disgust as Ardyn tilted his head and ran his tongue along his teeth. It was vile. Humiliating.

Noctis eventually found the strength to give him a push. However, Ardyn just latched onto his neck again.

“Really, I  _ was _ going to be gentle with this,” he said between lustful open-mouthed kisses, “but you’ve forced my hand. Patience is a virtue, Noct.”

As if this guy knew about  _ virtues _ . 

The prince yelped as Ardyn dug his nails into his sides. He had stopped kissing him now, but the lust in his expression remained. A repulsive smirk was plastered on his face as he briefly felt along Noctis’ torso. While it was quick, his touches were hard enough to leave bruises. Nasty ones, at that.

“I fucking hate you,” Noctis said through his teeth. Ardyn only snorted inelegantly.

“I’m afraid you’re a little too late to be the first to say that to me.”

He was hasty in removing himself and grabbing Noctis by the hips. He flipped him over. Scrabbling at the desk, Noctis tried to right himself, though found himself trapped when Ardyn leant his full weight on him.

He shuddered. He could feel the hardness of an erection pressing into the small of his back. That feeling in his gut was screaming— _ begging _ —for him to fight back, to  _ run _ , because this was  _ not _ going to end well. Noctis knew that. His body knew that, as he almost didn’t notice as he began to thrash wildly. He had to leave. He had to get out of here, get as far away from Ardyn as possible, and yet, he couldn’t. Not with a man so much stronger than him pinning him down and with no magic to help out. 

“This is not quite how I imagined this to go,” he vaguely heard Ardyn muttering. It was drowned out by his yelping when he felt Ardyn reach around to clasp his his belt buckle. Since Noctis couldn’t do much in this position, he heard the clinking of the buckle loosening as it slipped onto the floor. It lay there, mocking him.

“ _ No _ !” He pulled his teeth back into a wince as he heard the Chancellor’s hoarse chuckle in his ear. Noctis tried to thrash onto his side, twisting like a snake. “Stop! I swear to the  _ gods _ —”

“I wouldn’t waste my breath. I don’t think they’re listening.”

All that came from Noctis’ mouth was a chorus of ‘nos’ and ‘fucks’ as his uniform was yanked down to his knees. Since Ardyn wasn’t too fussy about how he looked, he left his shoes on so his trousers bunched around his knees. He could hardly even kick anymore. His lungs ached from all the protesting, and by the time Ardyn was leaning over him again like a shadow, he could only muster a pathetic whine.

How many times had he begged this man to have mercy on him? He’d pleaded with him to stop lashing him, begged him to spare his friend from punishments he didn’t deserve, and now,  _ this _ . 

“If only your kingdom could see you now. And for what it’s worth, I hadn’t planned on this so soon until you decided to—” Ardyn started, pausing just as he aligned himself up with Noctis’ hips.

“Ardyn,  _ don’t _ !”

He felt his world shatter, and that star of hope vanished right before him as Ardyn shoved inside of him in one thrust.

“— _ disobey me _ .”

Noctis threw back his head and the most broken scream he’d ever heard himself vocalize was torn from his throat.

If Ardyn was saying something to him, he didn’t hear. Noctis dragged his fingernails across the surface of the oak desk, peeling the varnish up in his wake. He would have expected Ardyn to scold him, yet maybe this once, Ardyn didn’t care. From the sound of his delirious laughter, it was safe to assume he didn’t. He only laughed harder when Noctis clawed frantically for the freedom just beyond his grasp, arms grasping at nothing.

Now, Noctis had dealt with pain. The flogging had been awful, and the water tank had been even worse, but this, this was  _ hellish _ . His eyes rolled back into his skull as Ardyn drove him harder in the desk with each push. The sharp edges dug into his waist mercilessly. It was a repeating, excruciating agony that felt like a shard of broken class was cutting him up. Maybe glass would be the preferable option.

Because this was not pain. This was torment.

It was not only pain itself, as it was joined with the agonising feeling of being invaded. It was foreign and barbaric, and his stomach churned. All he could think about was how it wasn’t supposed to  _ be  _ there. That  _ this _ shouldn’t be happening.

Noctis had to hide his face between his arms and bite his sleeve to stop more screams from coming out. He didn’t want to give Ardyn the satisfaction. The bastard had a firm grasp on his waist and pulled him back every time he tried to crawl over the desk to escape his clutches. Noctis had then tried sliding back, but ended up regretting it when he found himself pressed closer to Ardyn instead.

He gagged as he felt fingers sliding up his neck and into his mouth. Ardyn’s voice was distorted, as if a chorus of daemons were speaking alongside him. “Aren’t you a  _ delight _ , little prince?”

A broken sob was his only answer.

Time passed both slowly and quickly, as if the dark power Ardyn held was warping it. Was that even possible? Did it matter? Noctis’ wet eyelashes fluttered shut as his cheek was held against the wood. In reality, it had only been about 15 minutes before he felt Ardyn shudder.

“Don’t,” he warbled weakly.

Similarly as he had done last time, Ardyn let out a deep growl from the depths of his chest as he lurched forwards, orgasming violently. Noctis’ limp body was shoved against the desk for a final time.

Ardyn staggered back, almost falling into his chair in the aftermath of sadistic ecstasy before he righted himself. He quickly cleaned himself and patted down the front of his uniform to smooth out any creases. “Now that  _ that’s _ out of the way, I suppose we should—”

He stopped when he realised Noctis had passed out amidst all the excitement. Oh dear.

* * *

 

Ardyn hummed quietly as he settled Noctis down in his private chambers.

He was planning on chucking him in solitary after he had finished with him, though felt a twinge of pity upon seeing the prince’s crumpled form hanging over the desk. Honestly, pity was a feeling he forgot he could express, and it had a nasty habit of showing up at inconvenient circumstances. It simply wouldn’t be right to kick him out after such an occurrence, so Ardyn had taken him in his arms. He was glad he had a door installed in his office that lead directly to the staff quarters.

Nobody was around at this time of night. The guards had all been roused to make sure no other escapees had slipped out amongst the chaos. Ardyn hadn’t seen anyone else, but there was no such thing as being too careful. Now that his first act of business was taken care of, there were the other three to deal with.

The Chancellor had left Noctis in his own bed, peacefully asleep. Well, perhaps  _ peaceful _ was a bit of a stretch, although he wasn’t waking up any time soon. He’d stationed two guards at his door anyway. He wasn’t planning on keeping the prince very long, but maybe a day or two to further bathe in the residuum of his hard-earned victory. The daemons were exceedingly pleased. That didn’t surprise him, as that had been the moment they had been yearning after for  _ so _ long. Ardyn tried to convince himself that maybe a month wasn’t too short of a time to take the prince.

Noctis’ friends had been banged up in solitary as requested. Solitary would act as the temporary holding area for now. They deserved a fate far worse than just sitting in a cell. Ardyn’s fingers twitched as he found himself in the empty corridor. The daemons whispered in his mind, eager to inflict more pain.

“The more, the merrier,” Ardyn said to no one in particular.

He stopped when he heard a voice answer him. Except,  _ ah _ , that voice was not speaking to him, but to someone else. 

“Why would you do something so  _ stupid _ ?!”

As expected, Ardyn found Verstael shaking his son by the shoulders. He hadn’t known when he had even woken up and slipped out, though it was an amusing sight to watch for a moment. Prompto whimpered at his father’s mercy. 

“I should leave you here indefinitely after what you did,” snarled the scientist. “You utter failure!”

He was always the harsh one. Verstael had been smacking Prompto around since the child was only three, when he hadn’t been in the care of a governess, that was. The poor thing was ever the sensitive one. Right as Prompto was about to burst into tears, as he often did, Ardyn rapped his knuckles on the door. Verstael whipped around to glare at him.

“Now, now, I think you’ve harassed the boy enough.”

“What?” Verstael snapped. “Chancellor, he tried to  _ escape _ . Prompto deserves any punishment I give him.”

Ardyn feigned a pout, giving Prompto a look of sympathy. Entirely fake, of course. “How about we discuss it in the morning, hm? I’ll give him a talking to first.”

Eyes dark from lack of sleep, Verstael scoffed and turned on his heel. He longed to slam the door though couldn’t with Ardyn still inside, so he allowed the sound of his marching footsteps to convey how angry he was. Prompto remained where he stood, trembling like a lost lamb. How adorably  _ pathetic _ . He lost his footing and fell onto the bed when Ardyn took a step closer. He could understand why the boy was jittery, but until now, Ardyn had never laid a finger on him. 

He had big plans for this one.

“Daddy’s right, you know,” he cooed softly. “You really  _ did _ make a foolish mistake. He just wants what’s best for you, after all.”

Prompto didn’t respond. He cradled his knees and silently begged the Chancellor for forgiveness. Ardyn took a moment to peer at his face. His freckles were so prominent. He vaguely remembered that Verstael had sported the same sun-kissed skin at a similar age, but now they had faded in all his time spent locked indoors.

“Nothing to say? Even after your father was so worried about you?”

The blond trailed his eyes down to the floor. “He called me a failure.”

Ardyn laughed heartily. “Oh, not at all! He prizes you above all his other creations!”

Prompto turned his gaze back up in confusion. His eyebrows were furrowed, but his eyes were still glistening with tears and his lips were pursed to stop himself from crying further. Ardyn knew what he was asking. There was utter befuddlement on his cloned features, his head tilted slightly, exactly as his creator would have. 

“Creations?”

Ardyn’s eyes  _ gleamed _ .

“Yes,” he said as he walked closer. Prompto shuffled to the back of the wall. “Now, physically, you aren’t anything special. Just one of many thousands of clones to serve for the magitek army, but somehow, your charm convinced your father to keep you! How about that? You were spared from your inevitable daemonification! And you wondered where your cute little barcode came from.”

The look in Prompto’s blue eyes was delicious. The boy started a fresh round of tears, shaking his head in disbelief. Ardyn’s words must have sounded like garble to him, but he wasn’t going to repeat himself. He found that repetition ruined the moment. Why not let Prompto mull over that in his time in solitary? Ardyn snickered maliciously as he grabbed the front of Prompto’s collar, savouring every second of his bewilderment. How he  _ loved _ ruining innocent minds.

“So consider yourself  _ lucky _ .”

After pushing him away, he waved farewell as he slammed the door shut. That was another one of the escapees dealt with. Not entirely, though Ardyn wanted to make sure he added his personal touches to their punishments. One must always flavour their meal, after all. Two down, two to go.

The remaining pair he wasn’t quite as interested in, but he took the time to stop at their respective cells before he retired for the night. Might as well. The Chancellor stood between the doors, pondering who to screw with first, however one was clearly more active than the other. The frustration was almost seeping out from under the door.

The large tattooed one was wide awake. It had to be around two in the morning by now. Pacing back and forth like a caged animal, he bared his teeth when Ardyn sauntered inside.

“Oh my,  _ someone’s _ not happy to see me.”

Gladiolus looked ready to pounce, yet Ardyn made sure he didn’t by waving a hand. The daemons would take care of keeping him still. He leant against the door casually, checking his nails as if they were anything but perfect.

“What do you want?”Gladio growled. 

“Maybe I was simply coming in to say hello.”

“Fuck off.”

Ardyn raised a brow. Had they all gotten cockier since their failed escape attempt? He never knew Gladio well beforehand, but he was sure he wouldn’t have dared speak to him like that. Perhaps it was the anger of their silly blunder that was left over. Still, a person like him was  _ always  _ fun to tease. Maybe more fun that Noctis himself. It was reminiscent to prodding a sabertooth while it couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Congratulations on getting out!” Ardyn decided to say. Repeating what he had said to Noctis earlier, he enjoyed how furious Gladio became as he realised they had no chance to begin with. His face twisted as Ardyn went into detail of how the cameras worked, how he had deliberately held back reinforcements just to observe them. He chuckled. “I do wonder if you’ll attempt such a thing again?”

Gladio snorted and folded his arms. “With you around? Damn right I will.”

Hm. Not a good attitude. Something he would have to fix.

Didn’t this one have a sister? Ardyn hardly cared, though sometimes reading through the files of inmates came in handy. One should always have something to use as blackmail. Rule two of emotional manipulation! His lip twisted into his signature smirk as he recalled the name at last.

“You have a younger sibling, don’t you?” Gladio’s expression formed to shock. “Ah, yes, _ Iris _ . I heard she’s being kept in a facility on the other side of Gralea. Now, it would be a dreadful shame if something were to happen to her, all at the expense of her brother’s mistakes.” 

The man snarled like a dog. “You won’t. You won’t  _ touch _ her.”

Ardyn waggled a finger. “Ah, now that depends on  _ your _ actions.”

He phased through the door for dramatic effect, enjoying how the black smoke made Gladio screech in fury and bang on the wall. Oh, he’d treasure this night for years to come. 

One left.

In all honesty, Ardyn was quite fond of the bespectacled one. He was calm and practical, and just like Gladiolus, breaking his composure would surely be exquisite. Each member of the escapees had their own delicious qualities that made them oh so  _ fun _ to destroy. Noctis would always be his favourite, but he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed the teasing the other three. He almost flounced into Ignis’ cell in excitement.

He was lying on the bed. Not sleeping, of course. He bolted up as soon as Ardyn entered. His words cut through the air like a blade.

“Chancellor Izunia.”

“Some respect? That’s something that’s been lacking tonight.”

Ignis didn’t say anything. Well, that was a disappointment. What could Ardyn do to rile him up? He didn’t have any siblings to blackmail him with, and he was very good at keeping his temper, unlike the others. The Chancellor would have to be careful with this one.

Then again… he hadn’t mentioned what he had done to Noctis, had he? And he knew for a fact Ignis was fond of the royal family. 

“I have to say, I didn’t expect  _ you _ of all people to join in on tonight’s expedition. Might I inquire as to why you did?”

Turning his head away, Ignis closed his eyes. “You have been abusing inmates. That alone was enough to convince me to leave.”

Maybe he did know. On the other hand, did he know _ everything _ ?

Ardyn sneered. “Then I suppose you’d like to know as to what the prince and I got up to while you were put in here?” Ignis’ emerald eyes hardened. They were quite alluring. Despite that, Ardyn continued. “You should have been there. With how much you love the royals, surely you would have been delighted to see Noctis bent over my desk.”

Ignis got to his feet. He clenched his fists, mimicking the same snarl Gladio had given him moments ago. “You  _ what _ ?”

“You heard correctly.” Ardyn leapt forwards in a flurry of dark mist and pinned Ignis to the floor, thighs straddling him. He’d had his fill of physical activities for the night, but there was no harm in throwing around some threats. It was what he did best. “I fucked him in my office. He wailed like a baby, the poor thing.” He cocked his head to the side, feigning pity for good measure. “Apologies for having him initially, as I’m sure you were pining for that yourself.”

He didn’t care if that was actually true or not, yet the face of rage Ignis wore was  _ delectable _ . He didn’t think that such a calm man could get so angry. Ardyn watched carefully as he felt him grab his wrist. Not nearly enough to hurt, but it got his attention.

“You’re vile,” he hissed. “If what you’re saying is true, we’ll make you answer for your crimes.”

Was he seriously saying that to the Chancellor of  _ Niflheim _ ? In his own  _ country _ ? Ardyn allowed his eyes to burn into Ignis’. He had such lovely green irises. Maybe he’d take him as he did Noctis, if one day he ever get bored of the prince. It was an attractive idea, though not now. He flashed the effects of the Scourge for a moment, savouring the terror that Ignis expressed. Showing people his literal dark side for the first time was always amusing. Nevertheless, he had probably spent long enough down here. Soon, it would be morning, and Noctis could entertain him further before he locked him up somewhere special.

Ardyn got to his feet and left before Ignis could recover. Any more teasing and it would ruin the fun later down the line. 

Now, then. Upon returning to his chambers, standing next to a sleeping Noctis, Ardyn pondered what to do next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i added chapter titles! sorry, noct. i do love you, i swear. also i tried to write this piece while drunk the other night and it ended up like this:
> 
> "Ardyn took ncot all the away to his office.   
> Oooh, said ardyn.  
> Oooooh noooooooo said noct. Fuck all his ardh work was SPIIELD. Fufck then ardyn just fucked him up. Quite literally. Fucked. Over the desk. Hell yeah   
> Fuck this im going to play dragon age ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff tooo drunk go type. Im no t even that drunk. I just had like… five glasses. Small ones. Yknow fkk my head hurts"
> 
> dont drink marshmellow vodka before you write, kids.


	13. Introducing the Zero Senses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being left in a blank room to contemplate his situation, Noctis is driven delirious. Luckily for Ardyn, that is exactly what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i started another au ardynoct fic, linked on my dashboard. if you're into angels and demons then pwease check it out, i would be evew so gwateful... (hint please read it i need that validation and ive worked hard)

**** Noctis awoke to the smell of clean linen and old furniture.

He groaned deeply. He had no idea how long he had slept for, though the headache throbbing behind his skull was horrific. His eyes burned and his entire body felt stiff, as if he had slept in the exact same position all night. What had even occurred before he fell asleep, anyway? Noctis’ memory was hazy, only recalling flitters of classwork and then the dark hallways of Vis Legis.

Hang on. The escape. What had  _ happened _ ?!

As he tried to get up, Noctis let out a cry of pain. Holy fuck, his back was killing him. His old wounds were acting up again, but the agony spread down further than usual. There was an aching from between his thighs as if fingers had pulled at the flesh, and Noctis noticed ferocious red lines branded against his hips. His naked hips. A strangled gasp erupted from his mouth as all of his repressed memories flooded him at once like a tidal wave, mercilessly destroying anything in its wake. He could remember Prompto unlocking the main building’s door with his barcode, climbing over the fence only to be chased by the zu, and then seeing Ardyn materialise right before his eyes like a daemon. Then, he had been dragged back to his office, where he remembered shouting at Ardyn more, and then…

Ardyn’s deranged laughter. The feeling of the desk digging into him, dragging his fingernails across varnished wood and screaming until his throat bled. He’d been raped. Ardyn had actually fucking  _ raped _ him.

Noctis whimpered as he brought his knees to his chest. His backside hurt, so as much as he wanted to leap up and run ten miles away from this place, he was paralysed for the time being. He didn’t know if he  _ could _ walk. He swallowed heavily at the sight of dried blood spots beneath him. It was nothing horrific, and he didn’t think he was bleeding anymore, but gods… what was he supposed to do now? Carry on through his sentence like it had never happened? He couldn’t. Ardyn had destroyed him in the most intimate way possible. He hoped he didn’t know he was a virgin, because Ardyn was precisely the kind of man to take pleasure in taking it away from him. Sick fuck. 

Where was he, anyway? Noctis wiped his eyes to peer around the room. He was in a large king-sized bed with red satin sheets and gold cushions. The room was pasted with old wallpaper, and the furniture looked antique. There was an enormous grandfather clock opposite him. Noctis didn’t even know those things still existed. It read that it was almost eleven in the morning. 

Glancing to his left, Noctis saw a nightstand with a clear jar of water next to an empty glass. He dove for it and drank three glasses worth. While he was tempted to smash the damn thing, he was thirsty as hell. The last time he had drank anything was well over twelve hours ago. He could smash it when he was finished. Other than those features, the room didn’t have much to it. It was fairly spacious, with a ruby carpet and heavy curtains. While there were no bars on the windows, Noctis saw that he was several stories up. Climbing out that way wasn’t an option, then.

A horrified feeling ran through him as he pondered on whose room it could belong to. He was certain he must have passed out at some point after Ardyn’s ‘punishment’, and he definitely wasn’t in the main Vis Legis building. Not with furniture as delicate as this, anyway. If he was not in the dorms or not in solitary, then… was this  _ Ardyn’s _ room?

It did kind of smell like him. There was a faint scent of cherries and expensive wine. Not exactly unpleasant in itself, but all Noctis could imagine when he breathed in was how much Ardyn had tortured him during his time here. He felt bile rise up in the back of his mouth.

Despite how much his body ached, Noctis eventually forced himself to stand up. He shivered. He was still naked and his old clothes had been discarded, so he kept the curtains shut as he crept forwards.

The door was locked. Go figure. Turning around, he set his sights on all of the furniture. While most of the wardrobes and drawers were also locked, one small cabinet opened. Noctis wrinkled his nose at the sight of at least 20 wine bottles behind glass. So that’s where the smell was coming from. How much of the stuff did Ardyn  _ drink _ ? Most of it was red, though Noctis could spot several bottles of champagne and rosé. His office smelled similar, so he had to assume he kept more stashes of alcohol there and probably elsewhere. Strange, the man didn’t look like an alcoholic. Then again, Noctis almost forgot about the black goo dripping from eyes and how he was able to manifest in thin air. What  _ was _ he? A magic user? That couldn’t be true, because only the Lucis Caelum line could use magic. Some sort of unknown creature nobody had documented yet? If that was the case, then… what was he doing as the Chancellor of Niflheim?

The prince had to take a step back. He was so tired and confused from it all. Crawling back into the folds of the duvet, he wrapped it around himself like a cocoon. He was  _ not _ going to attempt to escape naked. Ardyn be damned, but Noctis wanted to preserve whatever dignity he had left. He was still in pain, yet he had checked himself in the meantime, and he seemed to be fine. There was a private ensuite to his right though he had avoided peering in the mirror when using it. He didn’t want to see himself.

He ended up lying there for around two hours before he finally heard noises.

Shooting up when the door unlocked, he flinched back and pulled the covers up when he saw Ardyn waltz in.

The Chancellor wasn’t wearing his usual military jacket. As he was only dressed in a cream shirt, he looked far thinner than Noctis was used to. It was hard to imagine a man so slender was capable of such strength. His mouth remained neutral, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He set down a white cardboard box on one of the nightstands and perched on the end of the bed.

“Good morning,” he said sweetly.

Why was this bastard speaking to him as if nothing had happened? As if he didn’t violate him last night? As if he didn’t draw blood and inflict pain in the most intimate way possible? Noctis pressed his back against the headboard and snarled.

Ardyn only laughed good-naturedly. “Still feeling rough, I presume? Not to worry. You’ll feel better later.”

“Get the fuck away from me,” Noctis spat. He flinched away from the hand Ardyn outstretched to stroke his cheek.

“There’s no need to be hostile. Here, you should eat.”

He gestured to the white box. Noctis took a peek at it. He hesitantly reached out his hand to lift the lid, and his stomach growled when he saw chocolate pastries. Naturally, all he wanted to do was kick anything Ardyn offered back in his face, but he had never been  _ this _ hungry. The last time he had eaten was six last night, and while that wasn’t  _ that _ long of a time, Noctis had never gone so long without food before. He always had servants preparing meals and refreshments at all hours of the day. He assumed the only reason he had stayed in shape was because of all the training he did. 

Ardyn was looking at him expectantly. Noctis froze, pondering on whether to put his stomach at ease or be spiteful. He wanted to do both, and yet… he knew Ardyn would probably end up starving him. So he plucked the box from the nightstand and began eating.

It tasted so fucking  _ good _ . Noctis almost moaned at the flavour of milk chocolate on his tongue. He hadn’t had any sugar at all since coming to Niflheim, so while the pastries might have been mediocre to someone else, to Noctis, they were ambrosia. He kept his eyes down as he ate, refusing to look at the satisfied smirk on Ardyn’s face. That would just make him vomit, and he wasn’t going to waste chocolate if he could help it. When he was finished, Ardyn chuckled and placed the empty box back on the nightstand.

“Better?”

Noctis grunted in response. He dragged the blankets back over his shoulders to hide his bare torso. “Whatever. Give me my clothes back.”

“They are being mended. You tore them to pieces last night, so what did you expect?” Ardyn’s tone was mocking. Of course the pervert would keep him naked as long as possible. Noctis didn’t know why he was surprised. They stared at each other for a long time. Ardyn continued to do nothing, and Noctis felt his frustration building ever higher as the seconds ticked on by. 

Eventually, he cast his gaze down and ended up whimpering his next words, “Why?”

Raising a brow, Ardyn said nothing, prompting him to ask a full question.

“Why did you…” Noctis squeezed his eyes shut as the memory haunted him like a poltergeist, “why did…”

Ardyn laughed. “Oh, Noct. You don’t understand. What man could resist passing up the crown prince of Lucis when he is right before his eyes? The moment I saw you I knew you had to be mine.”

Obviously, there was more to it than that, but Noctis didn’t know that at present. For all he knew, Ardyn was just a creep taking advantage of his position to prey on those he found attractive. Noctis felt his guts roil in disgust. How many young men had he taken before him? Or was he the first? Judging by how well Ardyn played his mind games, Noctis could only assume the former.

Another question sprung to mind. He had been wondering ever since last night, so Noctis took the opportunity to ask once he found his words again.

“Then tell me what the fuck you  _ are _ .”

Surprise flashed across Ardyn’s features. He then quickly replaced it with his usual twisted smirk. “I invite you to contemplate the fact that perhaps the world is not what you think it is. There is so much you don’t know, silly child.”

“Don’t avoid the question!” Noctis yelled as he shot up. The blankets fell off him, all bunched around in his lap. “I  _ saw _ you! I saw you materialise out of thin air like a daemon!”

It was then that Ardyn decided to stand up. He strolled towards the door, giving Noctis one last smile before he opened it.

“Who knows? Perhaps I  _ am _ a daemon.”

* * *

 

Noctis remained trapped in Ardyn’s room for another hour. Frustrated, he ended up pacing around now that the pain had mostly gone, careful to dive back into the bed lest anyone enter again. Nobody did end up coming in except a guard that presented him with a clean uniform.

He happily changed into it. Wearing the stark white of Niflheim was still better than being naked. Once he was dressed, another guard entered and took hold of him by the elbow opposite the other. They said nothing, only robotically moving him out of the room and down a hallway. Noctis assumed they were MTs judging by the fact their faces were covered by helmets and they hadn’t addressed him at all. They walked like MTs too, clanking their mechanical limbs in perfect rhythm. He had to practically jog to keep up with them.

Whatever part of the building he was in, Noctis knew it was the rest of the staff quarters. The walls were painted red (which he credited to Ardyn’s tacky sense of decor) and the floor was made of dark wood. He could spot the entrance to a large living area nearby, although no one was in it. There were leather couches, a coffee machine and a TV. Pricks.

The MTs didn’t stop dragging him along until they were back in the main Vis Legis building. As it was short of lunch time, Noctis did not see anyone around, and was thankful. He knew he still had bruises on his face. 

He was flung into the shower room outside. Thankfully, it was empty, so Noctis was quick about getting undressed and showering. The only reason he didn’t protest was because his skin was grimy and itchy from last night. The running, the dried blood, the sweat—it was horrible. Not to mention Ardyn’s recent treatment of him. Even the cold water and cheap scent-free soap was a blessing. He scrubbed until his flesh was red raw, and took his time drying himself much to the MTs annoyance. When he slipped his uniform back on, they grabbed him and wrestled him indoors once more. 

They ended up in the solitary confinement section. Noctis had never been down this part before, but he’d seen Prompto be taken in here, and that’s where he assumed his friends were now. He tried to keep an eye out for them, though the doors were all closed and they had no windows. Strangely, the MTs did not stop at any of them. If they were not going to bang him up here, then where were they taking him?

The hallway became suddenly dark. They weaved around so many twists and turns Noctis found himself dizzy. They only stopped when they came upon one lonely door. 

One MT produced something from the front pocket of its armour. When Noctis tried to get a look at it, he only saw a white strap of sorts before it was clamped around his neck. He let out a strangled sound as he tried to pry it off. What, they made him wear a cursed bracelet and now this?

“No speaking,” the MT growled.

When Noctis began to argue, the collar shot an electric spark through him. He yelped, which only sent another jolt down his spine. A shock collar.

Saying nothing else, the MTs unlocked the door and pushed Noctis inside.

White.

Everything was white.

Literally  _ everything _ that Noctis could see was white. He fluttered his eyelashes, unsure he was seeing correctly. When the MTs locked the door, he saw that his side of it was also painted white, while the outside had been grey. Even the godsdamned door handle was white. The hinges were white, and so were the bolts holding it together. What a bizarre place.

Turning, Noctis surveyed what was in the room. There was a bed, which also happened to be white. That was it. The walls were white and so was the floor. There was a door off to the side which held the bathroom, but again, everything in there was white too. Flat panels of light were installed in the ceiling as there were no windows. Along with his white uniform, Noctis found himself shrouded in permanent clouds. He had never seen so much  _ nothingness _ in his life. The heavy snows back in Insomnia didn’t tarnish the city with as much white as was held in this room.

He took a step forward. To his surprise, his feet made no sound. The floor was not made of tile, but a soft carpet. It only made a muffled  _ thump _ noise if he stamped his foot hard enough.

Huffing, Noctis made his way over to the bed and slumped down on it. If he couldn’t speak, then he’d have to lie here instead. Plenty of time to think about his situation.

Gods, what was he going to do now? Since his first escape attempt was foiled, he knew they were just going to crack down on security even harder than before. He doubted Ardyn would let him run loose again. He had efficiently trapped himself here for eternity. Or until his sentence was up, though eleven months seemed so far away. There was no way he could put up with Ardyn fucking him every chance he got. Once was more than enough, and the white walls weren’t helping with his oncoming dissociation.

His ears buzzed with static. His hands felt clammy, as if covered with a layer of grime, yet he knew they were clean. Due to the lack of stimulation in the room, he became hypersensitive to every noise. Each beat of his heart felt like an enormous thudding all around him. Noctis let out a quiet groan, careful not to activate the shock collar again, and pressed his face into the pillow. He just wanted to go home and forget any of this had ever happened. 

His next plate of food came in a few hours later, or what he assumed was a few hours. As there was no clock in sight, there was no way to be sure.

His meal consisted of white rice on a white plate. There was also water, but it was held in a white plastic cup.

Typical.

Once Noctis had finished his flavourless dinner, he crawled back to the bed. Part of him wished he was back in Ardyn’s room, only for the fact there was stuff to look at. There had been rich colours, despite how tacky and old-fashioned. The bed had been comfortable and it was nice to know what time of day it was. The minutes distorted into hours, and the hours distorted into seconds. The dissociation was already bad enough without the lack of time! He curled in on himself, trying to ignore the pressing feel of the collar and focus on waiting for dusk so he could hopefully sleep.

However, even when Noctis was  _ sure _ it was nighttime, the lights did not turn off.

He tossed and turned. The panels above him stung his eyes with their constant glaring, preventing his brain from getting its much needed rest. He tried to blot it out with the pillow but it was so flimsy it hardly helped. Noctis clenched his fists in frustration. He wanted to talk to himself to give himself something to  _ do _ , however, the collar stopped him. He had tested it at first by seeing how much noise he could make before it jolted him, but the answer was not much. A mere whisper was enough to set it off. 

The prince gazed up at the ceiling on his first restless night. Even if the situation was dire, even if Ardyn had him at his mercy, he  _ was _ going to get out.

* * *

 

Days passed, or maybe months. Noctis didn’t know.

He whined as he banged his head against the wall. Day in and day out, his meals consisted of rice, bread or cauliflower. There was no taste to any of it. His head was always wracked with pain, ears throbbing from the lack of sound. Who knew silence could be so  _ deafening _ ?! It had just been boring at first. Nothing to do, Noctis spent the hours pacing or recalling memories. While the recent ones had battled for control, he did his best to remember the good ones from when he was a teenager. How he wished he could go back to those times, when it was him and his dad living in peace and comfort. He wished he’d never slandered him.

The shock collar stopped him from moving around too much, so he’d ceased trying to exercise for something to keep him occupied. Touching himself (for the stimulation) was also out of the question. Not that what had happened recently put him in the mood. He just wanted to  _ not _ be bored out of his fucking skull. 

How long had it been? A week? A month? Noctis had no clue, and yelling at the guards wasn’t helping. The collar had shocked him so bad he had fainted, only to wake up several hours later tingling with electricity. Part of him hoped the fucking thing would kill him and put him out of his misery already.

Noctis scratched the wall. The rough paint scraped the pads of his fingers. Not stopping, Noctis gasped in awe when he saw that he had drawn blood.

What a pretty colour! His gaze softened at the streaks of ruby red he had left, marvelling at how strong it appeared next to all of the dreaded white. He spent a long time admiring it before he brought his bloodied fingers to his lips.

It was sharp and metallic. Usually Noctis detested such a flavour, but after so long of nothing besides rice and bread, his blood was a breath of fresh air. He only removed his fingers from his mouth when all of the blood was gone, his wounds left to scab over.

He hung his head. A deranged sob broke out, provoking the collar to give him a tingle. What the fuck was he  _ doing _ ?

This room was killing him. With no sound, no taste, no smells, hardly anything to touch and nothing to see except blankness, Noctis felt himself going insane. He actively wished he was back in his own room, or even in the cursed water cell. Being whipped seemed like a better situation to be in. Still, the only thing he could do was wait until it was over. 

But how long would he have to wait?

* * *

 

After Ardyn had finished off another bottle from his wine collection, he placed his empty glass down and left his chambers.

The Scourge had soiled his tastes. When human all those years ago, he hadn’t been a fussy eater, but now he could hardly stomach anything at all. Obviously he had to force down food at specific events, though if he could help it, Ardyn only drank alcohol, and sugar on the rare occasion. He didn’t know what it was, but alcohol was the only thing that tasted good anymore. Despite that, wine couldn’t get him drunk. He had figured out after experimenting that pure ethanol was the only substance strong enough to intoxicate him (immortality left you with a lot of free time to spend in Verstael’s laboratory). Ethanol didn’t exactly taste pleasant, though.

While wine was decidedly the best, sometimes cake or chocolate made for a nice change. It was what gave him the idea to treat Noctis after their first night. What young man  _ didn’t _ like chocolate? Usually, Ardyn wouldn’t be so merciful, but seeing as Noctis was not going to have much stimulation at all for the next while, he had decided to be kind. Oh, he was becoming too soft in his senile age.

At the end of his tether, Ardyn made a brisk walk to the solitary confinements cells. No guards gave him a second glance, only saluting when he passed on by. He wouldn’t hang around on the weekends, though he thought he’d gone on long enough without seeing his prized possession.

The boy had only been in the white cell for two weeks. With such carefully designed torture, one would ideally be left in there for up to months at a time, but Ardyn didn’t have that much patience. A fortnight was already pushing it. Such a room was designed to provide a lack of stimuli. Everything being glorious  _ blanche _ , there would be nothing to focus on. With specially designed flooring and sound proof walls, as well as foods chosen for their lack of flavour, Noctis was sure to go mad. Especially as he had all that time in his own head to think about his situation. Ardyn chuckled at the thought.

He found Noctis kneeling in front of the wall, head resting against it. There were bloody streaks just above him, and Ardyn noticed that his right hand was injured. How had he done that? Still, Noctis appeared well, yet Ardyn could sense the insanity radiating off him. 

Ardyn was exceedingly empathetic. Empathy meant that he could sense emotions like they were scents in the air. As an expert in psychological manipulation, he knew that empathy was vital. To truly get into someone’s mind, one needed to understand how they felt. That didn’t mean he cared. Compassion was a whole other story, but thankfully, it wasn’t needed in his expertise. So he tilted his head back for a moment to reap the rewards that the white cell was giving him. A mindbroken prince, desperate for any sort of sensation.

And Ardyn knew  _ exactly _ what kind to give him.

Noctis groaned lowly when Ardyn gave him a nudge. He didn’t seem to register the fact he was there at first, though when he trailed his eyes upwards, he gasped. The shock collar prevented him from squealing too loud, and Ardyn smirked as he fell backwards, clutching on to it as it shocked him.

He wouldn’t be needing that for their ‘session’. As Noctis writhed, Ardyn bent down to remove it. There was a simple scanner on the side, so it didn’t give him any problems as he pressed his finger to it. He tossed the cruel contraption to the floor.

“You—” Noctis gasped, voice hoarse from not having spoken in so long. His eyes darted around, not sure where to look, whether to keep staring at the white walls they were so accustomed to or drink in the sensation of Ardyn’s brilliant red hair.

That wasn’t what Ardyn wanted him to focus on, however. He roughly yanked Noctis to his feet and didn’t give him any time to register what was happening before shoving him against the wall, face first.

He didn’t say anything. Noctis whined under Ardyn’s grip, but he was too disoriented to fight back. Ardyn took extra care to gently run a hand through his hair, smiling when Noctis almost purred in pleasure. Oh, the wonders of sensory deprivation! He continued for some time, delighting in the prince’s muffled squeaks of both fear and bliss from feeling human (...sort of) contact after so long. He didn’t know it had only been two weeks, but again, that was another beauty of this psychological experiment.

Noctis was only snapped out of his stupor when Ardyn pressed against him. He had lost weight since his arrival. A pity, he would have to start feeding him more. Visible ribcages weren’t attractive. The prince struggled, but was weak and perplexed. Two weeks of nothing to eat except bread and rice would do that to a person. He was powerless to do anything about the fact Ardyn had slipped a hand down his trousers and was palming him through the soft fabric.

“No, don’t,” he cried gently. No matter how he tried, he could not stop his cheeks from flushing and a breath from escaping his lips. 

Of course it would feel pleasant. Ardyn had made sure he wouldn’t be able to get off at all in his time in solitary  _ just _ for this particular moment. It was oh  _ so _ delicious to hear the prince break down right in front of him. The only thing that would make this better would be if he had the entire Lucis Caelum line and the Astrals themselves watching, but one couldn’t hope for too much. For now, this was good enough.

Hard already, Noctis mewled as Ardyn took a firm hold of him. 

It delighted the Chancellor to see how much he was resisting. He tried to move further towards the wall, but Ardyn was holding his hip with his free hand, and the weight of his shoulders kept his upper half pinned. The daemons inside his mind roared to life as Noctis groaned when Ardyn swiped his thumb over the tip. It wasn’t long before Noctis leaned his head back on Ardyn’s chest and rocked into his touch.

There was no doubt he would retaliate at a later date, except total mental domination took time. Since he was such a pretty target, Ardyn didn’t mind. He laughed into Noctis’ ear.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

It sounded like Noctis was trying to say  _ stop _ , but he couldn’t quite do it. Not that Ardyn would actually listen. Not when he had him in such a position. He grinded against him gently, though Noctis was doing most of the squirming himself. How ironic. He could wail he didn’t want it as much as he pleased, however his body clearly didn’t agree. He ended up bucking into Ardyn’s hand by the end of it, desperate for the sensation he had been deprived of for so long. 

He came quickly. Noctis thumped his head against Ardyn, trying and failing to conceal his moan by gritting his teeth. It was a tad disappointing how suddenly it was over, yet Ardyn had gotten the result he wanted. He allowed Noctis to slump to the floor as he stood back, snapping his wrist forwards to rid himself of the cum dripping from his fingers.

“How revolting,” he commented, more as a way to tease Noctis than anything.

He thought the prince was crying. 

“What? You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

Noctis scraped his fingernails against the wall. So that’s where the blood came from. “Just go  _ away _ .”

Well, he was done anyway. Ardyn scoffed and turned on his heel. He would need to find the nearest bathroom lest anyone see his soiled hand. As he later held it under a running tap, he realised that a normal routine would need to be settled soon. While solitary was by far the most effective punishment, it would not do well to keep the escapees away from their work for too much longer.

Not that allowing them back into normality worried him. Ardyn was simply curious to see how soon they’d want to escape again after discovering the security system had been rebuffed, and of course, with Ardyn’s carefully chosen threats looming over them. By all means, it would be humorous to seen an attempt.

Let them _ try _ .


	14. Stagnant Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After another encounter with Loqi, Aranea finds Noctis broken and traumatised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the little delay, i'm on holiday in england. on the bright side i drew a quick cover for this fic! i've embedded it at the bottom of this and also the first chapter! it's on my tumblr here: https://corvusam.tumblr.com/post/186222930010/

****Following Ardyn’s visit, Noctis was released from the white cell shortly afterwards. The same MT guards that had thrown him in returned to drag him back out. Seeing a colour that wasn’t stark white made Noctis’ vision swim in confusion. He stumbled right into the cold grasp of the guards.

While the grey hallways were not that appealing to look at, it was so much better than what he had gotten used to in the past two weeks. Noctis almost wept in joy at the various hues and shades of grungy brown and silver. Even the sight of other people was a blessing. All he could think about was seeing his friends again. No doubt they would hate him after his ‘brilliant’ plan failed, but he held out the hope that they wouldn’t. 

Prompto wasn’t in his cell when he got there. Noctis looked around after the guards locked him in.

There was no sign of any recent activity. After having a rifle around, Noctis found all of Prompto’s clothes untouched, and the bathroom had not been used in a while. He hadn’t been released yet. 

The prince slumped down on his bed. Maybe they would release the others later. He’d spent enough time on his own, but at least his room consisted of stuff to do. Desperate to relieve his boredom, Noctis scrambled for his abandoned bag and books and grabbed the spare paper he had hidden there. Since he didn’t have any homework due to his absence, he took pleasure in doodling to keep his hands busy. There was only so much one could do without any video games or TV. Noctis liked to draw his weapons or the ones used in his favourite games. In a matter of half an hour, he had decorated the scrap piece of paper with swords and guns.

His head rolled forwards. Brain fuzzy and clouded from the lack of stimulation, Noctis struggled to keep himself focused. His hands ended up shaking so he put his pen down and stared at what he’d drawn. If he had just _one_ of those weapons, then he’d be able to cut down the Vis Legis guards like they were nothing. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around how they were blocking his magic. Such a thing had never happened before. Either Ardyn was more powerful than he first thought, or Niflheim had access to technology beyond his understanding. He didn’t know which was scarier.

The thought of Ardyn made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Again, that bastard had cornered and molested him, taking advantage of the fact he was desperate for touch. What the fuck had happened to him to induce such a pleasure for torture? What kind of sick fuck invented such a room? Noctis never wanted to see the colour white _again_ . Even more than that, he never wanted to see _Ardyn_ again, though fat chance of that happening.

The actions he had taken haunted Noctis every second of every day. Prompto and the others still hadn’t shown any sign of reappearing, thus Noctis was forced to attend his lessons alone. 

He sulked miserably at lunch. It was a Monday, so a full week had passed since he was released. The Gods had shown the tiniest bit of mercy by sparing him from Ardyn’s lustful gaze, but Noctis still cursed them. If they were meant to be all loving, then why were they making him go through this?

Noctis picked at his food as his head rested on the table. He’d eaten about half of it yet his appetite had been skewed in the blasted white cell. It was good to eat actual food again, but he found out his stomach had shrank. He just couldn’t eat as much as he could before. Sleeping had also been difficult. Thanks to the bright lights constantly keeping him up, Noctis laid awake until the early hours of the morning. He had spent every day exhausted and unable to catch up on his sleep during the nights. Of all the things he thought could ruin him, he had never had guessed a white room would be it. How could such a thing cause so much damage?

Lunch sucked when he was alone. He pushed his plate away and sat there. The everyday noises of chatter and cutlery scraping on china were dulled into a buzz. People walking around formed into shadows that flickered across Noctis’ vision. He knew he was zoning out, though he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing really mattered to him at this point. He hardly flinched when someone landed heavily in the seat opposite him. There was a gloating laugh and sneers in the background.

Peering up without moving his head, Noctis saw Loqi, hair ruffled and uniform creased. There was a wild glint in his eye.

“Hey, prince!” he said mockingly. There was no Ravus with him, however he had brought along a group of three or four other Niffs. “We heard all about your little escape attempt! Care to tell us more?”

Noctis said nothing.

Loqi huffed, slamming his hands down on the table. “Go on. How far did you get? What did the Chancellor do to you when he caught you? We want to hear all of the dirty details.”

That infuriating smirk was back. Noctis knew another vile remark was on the tip of his tongue, seemingly obsessed with what punishments Noctis received. The annoying thing was that he would be right. Should he guess again that Ardyn had fucked him, then Noctis no longer had the satisfaction of that accusation being false. He could lie, but in reality, he had no leg to stand on. He continued to remain silent, cheek smushed against the table. 

The Niff glared daggers at him when he didn’t respond. Noctis still didn’t move when Loqi got to his feet suddenly and circled around to his side.

“Alright. If you’re not going to talk here, guess we’ll have to take you somewhere else. Boys, grab him.”

His squeak of protest was drowned out by the constant cafeteria ruckus. Noctis was too disoriented to fight back. He was perfectly capable, he was sure, but he just couldn’t manage it. Why should he bother? Ardyn and the empire had taken everything from him. What these lot would do to him wasn’t going to compare to what Ardyn had already done. Noctis allowed himself to be dragged out of the room and into the nearest restroom. It was, like the rest of them, filthy and dark. He fell to the floor in a heap.

Loqi had someone guard the door while the others joined him. They had Noctis pressed up against one of the sinks, out of view. 

“We’re out of the public eye, now. Start talking,” he snapped.

Dark blue eyes bored into his. Loqi’s were also blue, though were a much paler shade. Noctis grunted and dragged his gaze back to the floor. “Why do you care?”

“Why do you think? Nobody’s _ever_ gotten out of here before. I heard you even got over the fence! C’mon, we’re dying to know how you did it.”

These guys were beyond annoying. The prince felt his anger boil at the sneering grins on their faces. He didn’t recognise any of the others, but Loqi being here was bad enough. He’d foolishly believed the blond twat had fucked off after Ravus had been punished, considering the last time Noctis had seen him was weeks ago. Had he been creeping around and keeping a low profile just to spring on him now? He wouldn’t put it past him.

Why should he tell him? His escape plan had been a hoax. Ardyn had purposely let them get as far as they did because he wanted entertainment material. There had been no real skill involved, as much as it hurt to admit. They had been played.

The front of his collar now in Loqi’s fist, Noctis felt himself being lurched forwards. Loqi grinded his teeth impatiently. “I’m _waiting_.”

Instead of answering vocally, Noctis spat in his face.

He didn’t care. 

“You stupid—” Loqi yelled, stumbling back to wipe the saliva out of his eye. His cronies immediately kicked Noctis back down and kept him there. “For fuck’s sake, you just can’t play nice, can you? Or did the Chancellor really fuck you up that bad?”

His words struck an unpleasant cord. Noctis pulled his lip back into a snarl as he fought the ones holding him down. Once Loqi had recovered, he gave Noctis a sharp jab to the stomach before continuing.

“Well, whatever. That wasn’t the only reason I wanted to talk to you. Remember your dad, prince? Y’know, king of Lucis?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Noctis snarled.

Loqi ignored him. “Yeah, heard about him on one of the guard’s radios. You do know he’s dead, right?”

Heart in his neck, Noctis turned to see a wicked smile on Loqi’s face. He was leaning against the large mirror riddled with cracks, snapping his knuckles loudly. Those last six words almost made him stop breathing.

“No, he isn’t. As if I’d believe you.”

“You can believe whatever you want. All I know is that he’s been six feet under for a while. Wonder how he died? You think he tried to save your pathetic ass and got himself shot? Or maybe—”

“—SHUT _UP_!” 

Noctis broke free of Loqi’s cronies’ hold and jumped up with blinding speed. He was even surprised at himself, wondering where this sudden burst of energy was coming from considering he had been out of commission for weeks. It was simply the combination of being alone, dealing with the aftermath of Ardyn, and now some Niff fuck was telling him his dad was dead. They wouldn’t just kill him like that. Upon losing the war, they had signed a contract. They had promised to keep them alive!

Hurling himself at the blond, they tumbled to the ground. Loqi had tried grabbing onto the sink to steady himself but all he did was dislodge it from the wall. It didn’t collapse, though some pipes burst. Water sprayed out and hit the other two Niffs, sending them recoiling back with a yelp. Noctis didn’t turn around. He had his hands pressed into Loqi’s throat, squeezing for all he was worth.

“I’ll kill you,” he said, voice gravelly—a dead giveaway that he was on the verge of tears. “I’ll kill you right now.”

Loqi wheezed as Noctis let go and started throwing punches instead.

“Uh, someone’s coming,” the one at the door said. The remaining two, soaked in water, wasted no time in abandoning their leader and making a run for it. Loqi looked like he wanted to shout for them if he wasn’t being pelted in the face by Noctis’ fist.

Noctis hadn’t heard the person enter, or the warning given beforehand. He kept on striking until a familiar voice snapped him out of it.

“Hey, what are you doing?!”

He allowed his arm to go limp. Loqi’s face was a mess of black eyes and blood. Noctis saw a blur of silver hair and black armour before being hauled to his feet.

“You nearly killed me,” Loqi hissed, hand to his neck. Red crescents were left embedded into his skin from where Noctis’ nails had dug in. They were almost bleeding.

Whoever had entered kept a firm grip on his shoulder. Noctis flicked his gaze over to see Aranea. She was gazing upon the scene with wide eyes and a stunned expression. She surveyed the broken sink and the state of both Loqi and Noctis. When she spoke, Noctis found her voice so incredibly soothing that he was glad she had arrived.

“What’s going on here?” she asked.

“He attacked me out of nowhere, Miss Highwind!” 

She threw Loqi a dirty look. “The prince here is not violent without provocation, thus I am reluctant to believe you, Loqi.”

Shocked, Loqi’s mouth dropped open. What a satisfying expression to see on him.

“Leave. I’ll be reporting this.” Aranea gestured to the door. Loqi reluctantly got up, glaring intently at her as he left. He slammed the door, leaving the two alone. Aranea took one glance at Noctis and furrowed her eyebrows. “You alright, prince?”

Noctis shakily swallowed. “...Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I… they dragged me in here. I— I don’t know, they were trying to ask me about the escape, and—” A sob wracked his body. “Aranea, is the king dead?”

The commodore seemed surprised for a moment. “What? Did _he_ tell you that?”

Noctis nodded.

“I haven’t heard anything. I’ll wager Loqi was lying. You can come to one of the spare offices, if you like,” she offered upon seeing the tears streaming down Noctis’ face. No doubt she felt pity for him, and while Noctis would usually decline, he needed some comfort. He was humiliated that he had started blubbering though he didn’t try and stop himself.

Aranea gently led him out of the restroom and down several corridors. Thankfully, no one was about due to lunch, so Noctis was able to get away with wiping his eyes and having no one see the redness dusting his cheeks.

As she was not working full time at Vis Legis, Aranea didn’t have her own office. They had to make do with one of the tiny rooms that were stationed well out of the way of the fancier ones. That was fine. The further away from people they were, the happier Noctis would be. He leapt into the dimmed room and out of sight in one of the leather chairs. Aranea turned the lights on and sat opposite him, kicking the desk out of the way. The florescence of the lights stung Noctis’ lenses as if he was back in that white cell. Would he ever be free of the nightmares inflicted on him here?

He trembled in his seat. Aranea looked him up and down. Not necessarily in judgement, but more in worry. 

“I heard about your getaway attempt,” she started. “That was… quite the feat you pulled. Stupid, yet brave. I can commend you for that.”

Noctis managed a half-hearted chuckle. “As if I’d stay put.”

Smiling, Aranea leant back against her chair, arm resting on the back of it. She sat with one leg crossed over the other. Noctis took a peak at her armour. It appeared uncomfortable. Metal plates clamped tightly over her thighs, midriff and shoulders, leaving only a thin layer of cloth and chainmail beneath it. Spikes jutted out from her shoulder plates, sharp and deadly. No doubt she would be a tough opponent in a fight. Despite how cool her armour was, a long white skirt was draped over her left hip. Noctis shivered at the colour.

“Alright, so what exactly happened in there? Loqi just started intimidating you?”

He felt weak admitting it, though Noctis nodded slowly. “Yeah. I was in the cafeteria, and he started asking me questions. I don’t know, I should have fought him off. We hadn’t been in the bathroom long before you found us. He… told me my dad—the _king_ —was dead. I got mad, I’m sorry.”

Aranea’s face softened. “Sorry about that. I can assure you, however, that I have heard no such news. If the king really was dead, I would know. I’ll check again later to be sure, so try not to worry.”

If only that was so easy. Noctis burned holes into his lap with how hard he was staring at it. All the thoughts of the past few weeks events—the escape, the punishment, the solitary confinement—it was all too much. A fresh load of tears began to fall as he struggled to keep it inside him. He was embarrassed that he was being so freely open in front of the imperial army’s commodore, yet what else could he do? He had been bottling all of it up for so long and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it inside for much longer. Now was that time.

“Prince?”

“I… I just want to go home,” he wept as he gripped onto the armrest. “I’m sick of this place. No matter what I do, I get punished. There’s nowhere to go. I know escaping was dumb, but what else was I supposed to do? Just _let_ Ardyn—”

The wretched name tasted of salt and decay on his lips. He slapped a hand over his mouth to stop more sobs from escaping. 

Frowning, Aranea removed her arm from the back of her chair and leaned forwards. “Let Ardyn do what? Noctis,” that was the first time she had said his name, he noted, “did he do something?”

Hand still over his mouth, Noctis nodded again.

“...Do you want to tell me?”

In all honesty, he had mixed feelings. Noctis wanted to scream to the world how awful he truly felt, but at the same time, he never wanted anyone to know about what he had gone through. It was embarrassing, _humiliating_ . He’d _die_ if any news of it got out. What would his friends think of him, then? Some prince he was.

After several moments of hyperventilating into his palm, Noctis pulled it away and dug his fingers into his uniform trousers. The paranoia of his dark secret escaping was high, and yet Aranea looked at him with such concerned green eyes that he couldn’t help but pour his heart out to her.

“He… he’d been touching me for _weeks_ ,” he began, stuttering on practically every word. “I didn’t think much about it at first. I just thought he was creepy. It… it got worse. He gave me points so he could punish me more. When he caught me after the escape attempt, he told me he purposely let me get out to see how far I’d get.”

He left out the intimate details, such as the office blowjob and the molestation in the white cell, though he knew he was going to have to say _something_ . He didn’t know if he wanted to go into it _all_ but perhaps a general idea would be enough for now.

Noctis balled his clammy hand into a fist and clamped his teeth on it to steady his breathing. He was well past a panic attack at this point. Aranea continued to say nothing, merely watching and listening. Noctis owed her for this. She didn’t have to do anything for him, yet here she was.

“He,” he murmured through his fist before removing it, “he r— he ra—”

He couldn’t get the words out. 

 _He raped me_.

And, despite that, Aranea knew. She placed her hand over his. “You don’t have to tell me any more.”

A deranged sob broke out again. Noctis covered his face with his hands as he cried into them. He didn’t think he’d cried this heavily in years. Perhaps the last time was when he was around eight or nine, shortly after the daemon attack, and he still couldn’t figure out which scenario was worse. Right now, he’d probably be more welcoming to the daemon than to Ardyn. At least the daemons were straightforward. They’d cut you up and leave, while Ardyn was a manipulator. He liked to play with his food for as long as it remained fresh.

When he pulled his fingers away, they were soaked with his tears. Noctis couldn’t imagine what a mess he looked like, although Aranea didn’t comment on it. He was grateful.

He didn’t say anything else. Aranea waited patiently for him to collect himself. They must have been sitting in the office for a good half hour by the time Noctis felt decent enough to get on with his day. Well, he didn’t really _want_ to do anything, but he didn’t have a choice.

As he got to his feet, Aranea placed a hand on his shoulder. Unlike Ardyn’s poisonous touch, hers was warm and sympathetic. She seemed a tad embarrassed to be expressing so much warmth, which he supposed he could understand. Her faint lipgloss shimmered in the dim light as she began to speak. 

“If Loqi bothers you again, report it to me when I’m here. I’m sorry about what you’ve had to go through.”

“...Thanks, Aranea.”

She pulled him into a hug without warning. Noctis was stunned for a moment, not having felt a real embrace in months. His spine tingled due to the unfamiliarity, though he eventually wrapped his arms around her waist. It was nice to be in the company of a woman after so long. 

Noctis gave her a weak smile upon leaving. He would have preferred to stay, but his lunch hour was almost up. She waved to him. 

Really, he had hardly said two words, but Aranea had caught on. And that’s maybe what he needed; simply the comfort. It had felt good despite how distressing it had been getting it out of his system. Of course, the anger and upsetment would remain for a long time, yet for the moment, it was enough.

* * *

 

She could hardly say she was surprised.

Aranea’s gentle smile had turned in favour of a scowl as she headed for the staff room. She had never liked Ardyn in the first place. He was cocky, arrogant and infuriatingly satirical. There was never a moment when he wasn’t the one pulling the strings. He knew everyone’s secrets and weaknesses and never turned down an opportunity to take advantage of it. Aranea hated him because he would do such things and then play the innocent card. Naturally, as a commodore, there was not much she could do. Ardyn Izunia was the Chancellor of Niflheim. 

Her heart broke for the prince. He had been so strong and resilient when he had first come here. It hadn’t even been that long. While she got the gist of what had happened, she was clueless about the extent to which Ardyn had gone. The man was a sadist. Chances were he had done far worse than what Aranea thought.

He was sitting in the staff room alone. A glass of that bitter wine he was so fond of in one hand and a book in the other, he draped himself across the sofa. He did not look up when she entered.

“Ah, good afternoon, Highwind.”

His voice was laced with honey. Aranea grimaced at the sound of it. She didn’t want to piss him off beyond what was necessary, however his actions could be reported to the emperor. He had committed a grave crime. Intimate relations, consensual or not, were strictly forbidden between guards and inmates.

“Chancellor,” she said sourly, “I’ve met with an inmate.”

Ardyn gave a ‘mhm’ in response, keeping his eyes on his book. He was in the middle of another sip of wine before Aranea spoke again.

“I know what you’ve done.”

Amber eyes flickering up, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

“ _Really_ ?” said Ardyn, sarcasm simply _gushing_ from his words.

“You will answer to the emperor for your actions. I will see to that myself. Don’t think you can do as you please here.”

The Chancellor stood up abruptly. He placed his half empty glass on the table and left the book leaning on top of the sofa. He turned, smile never fading until he stepped in front of Aranea. She swallowed but did not step away. She had made the fatal error of coming away from the door so that she could not back out of the room for a quick escape. Perhaps she should have gone straight to the emperor instead of confronting him, yet she had just been so _angry_! How could a man in his position do such a thing to someone so helpless?

Then again, this _was_ Ardyn she was referring to. She was sure he had a plethora of atrocities that no one knew about.

“My dear girl, I don’t think you realise the difference in our positions,” Ardyn started. His tone was low. “You are a mere commodore, and _I_ , the Chancellor of Niflheim. What makes you think your word has any effect on me?”

“You are not above the law,” said Aranea.

Ardyn laughed. “Maybe not, but the emperor _is_ . Who do you honestly think he will believe? His right hand man, or _you_?”

In that moment, Aranea could have sworn his eyes glowed. They were a bright yellow on most days, but now, his irises burned with the intensity of two dark suns. Suns that did not fill you with warmth, but drenched you in the antimatter of the void.

“I don’t care what you think you know. Your place is in the imperial army and that alone.”

“You assaulted an inmate!” Aranea cried out, though before she could protest further, she felt Ardyn’s hand cut off her air supply. She gasped as he pinned her against the wall, half a foot above the ground. Her armoured hands gripped his wrists, unable to pry them off. He was far too strong.

“What will it take for that simple fact to get through to you?” he hissed. “Verbal threats? Physical violence? I assure you, _Aranea_ ,” her name slid from his mouth like cyanide, “I am perfectly capable of doing both. Disposing of you would not be difficult. How about it, hm? Are you going to keep to your lane and stay out of my affairs, or will I have to get personal? Because believe me, every guard in Vis Legis is simply _desperate_ to get their hands on you. What they _wouldn’t_ give to have a go at the famous Dragoon… I would _love_ to find out!”

She was powerless to respond. Ardyn only let go once her gasps were reduced to strangulated whimpers. She slid to the floor, coughing violently.

Satisfied, the Chancellor sauntered back to the sofa, picking up his wine glass on the way.

“Run along, then. Go and throw that lance of yours around.”

Aranea ran out of the office as soon as she was able to stand. Talking to that monster had been a mistake. He had almost squeezed the life out of her! She hoped no one would bear witness to the red marks around her neck as she raced out of the staff block and back to the training yard. She had only come to Vis Legis today to assist Besithia with his creepy MTs, but she was going to have to think of an excuse. She didn’t want to remain here a moment longer.

If she felt _this_ uncomfortable, then she couldn’t imagine how poor Noctis felt. Her heart ached for him. He had lost his home, his father, and his entire kingdom and was now at the Chancellor’s mercy. Considering he _had_ no mercy, the prince didn’t even have that.

While there was not much she could do for him at the moment, she had more power than Ardyn thought. She had connections—powerful ones.

This place was a breeding ground for misery. Aranea had never approved of such camps being run, and being in one first hand had only reinforced that opinion. She would never have applied to be part of the empire’s army if she knew what they did to their prisoners. Lucis should never have lost. Things needed to be changed, and if the king was helpless to do, they were going to have to start small instead.

She took her phone out of her pocket and began dialling some numbers.

“Biggs, you there? Thank gods. Wedge with you? Listen, I’m going to need your help with something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m also going to kupocon in london on september 21st!!! if anyone here is going, let me know and we should totally meet there!


	15. Trichotomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thoughts of Ignis, Gladiolus and Prompto during their stay in solitary. Noctis gets a ridiculous idea.

****Prompto, Ignis and Gladio were only released from solitary after a full month was up.

Every week they were given 50 lashes each, racking it up to a total of 200 by the end of their sentence. Prompto’s eyes were red and puffy with the pain of their latest punishment, while Gladio limped from the amount of scars he’d received on both calves. While he had been shot back during their escape, the bullet had merely grazed his shoulder and had healed faster than expected. Ignis had three lashes across his left eye, probably permanently scarring his face if it was not treated properly. All three were in terrible shape.

“What do we do now?” Prompto asked quietly as they shuffled back to their cells. As it was now the weekend again, they had not been given any instructions for classwork and were simply dismissed.

Ignis spoke next. “We go back to normal.”

“What he said,” Gladio huffed, grunting in pain as his bloody calves protested against his movements. “I just want to get through the rest of my time here without anymore trouble. We’ve been roughed up enough as it is.”

The blond understood his reasoning, and a part of him felt the same way. Part of him was even angry at Noctis for roping them into escaping when none of them were particularly fond of the idea. He knew being caught wasn’t Noctis’ fault, and he felt pity for him considering Chancellor Izunia seemed to hold a vendetta against him. He didn’t know where the prince was now. He and the other two had been released together, but there had been no sign of Noctis as of yet. Prompto had to assume he was either in his cell or still locked up.

He hoped it was the former.

When Prompto arrived at his room, Ignis gave him a nod. 

“Take care,” he said.

“You too, Ig, Gladio.”

Gladio didn’t say anything in response. He was tired, having told them his sleep was hounded by restless guards who found his reactions funny. Ignis had also been fairly quiet. He would jump at any mention of Chancellor Izunia’s name, so Prompto had to assume he had paid them a visit too.

He couldn’t get that man’s words out of his head.

His barcode tattoo burned against his wrist. During his entire time in solitary, Prompto had not taken his eyes off it, vision blurring as he stared at the numbers for hours on end. He couldn’t _believe_ it. Verstael had never mentioned such a thing before. He had never made any indication to what Prompto really was—a clone. Just one of a million. Why Verstael had decided to keep him was still a mystery, yet Prompto was too scared to ask him. Would he be angry that the Chancellor had told him? Probably. He must have kept it a secret this whole time for a reason. To preserve his innocence, but why?

Sighing as he opened the cell door, he went to flop on his bed before he saw a dark lump curled up on the other bed. 

Noctis had pressed himself into a ball, hair covering his face in matted clumps. His uniform jacket was thrown over him like a blanket. Prompto could not see his expression, but the sharpness of his breathing indicated he was awake.

“Noct?” Prompto whispered, more shocked than anything else to see him there.

The prince jumped up like a bullet. “Prom!”

“You’re out,” exclaimed Prompto, rubbing the back of his neck as he took a seat. He kicked off his shoes. “You okay?”

He looked as if he was about to cry. Lip trembling, Noctis nodded. “Yeah. Look, I’m sorry about everything, I’m sorry the escape went wrong. It’s all my fault, and if it weren’t for me—”

His stuttering broke Prompto’s heart. The anger that had been festering over the past month dissipated along with Noctis’ composure. His eyes were hollow and blank, the sapphire hue dulled to a steely blue. His skin, while pale in the first place, was flushed white and flaked off on his arms. Prompto could not catch sight of any fresh scars, and Noctis seemed to have a good posture, though he was not doing well. Whether someone was hurting him—or he was hurting _himself_ —it was apparent that his health was in decline. What had happened while they were kept apart?

“Hey! It’s alright!” Prompto said in an attempt to calm him down. He put his hands up in front of himself. “We’re all alive, right? I thought they were going to kill us for that.”

His words did not help. Noctis sniffed and turned his head away. “Who knows? They might. I’d deserve it after putting you through that.”

“Don’t say things like that, man. There are no grudges held here. How long have you been out, anyway?”

Noctis’ eyelashes fluttered open in surprise. He shifted his weight on the bed, contemplating his answer. “Two weeks.”

“They let you out after two weeks?”

“Yeah. I was in the cell that’s all white. Were you put in solitary?”

“Hold on, the _white cell_ ?!” Prompto spluttered. He clutched the sheets in horror. Noctis wordlessly nodded again. “The fuck! I thought that place was a rumour! Like, Ravus told us about it one day, but I never actually _believed_ him! Dude, what was it like?”

The anticipation in his voice was jarring.

Noctis took a moment to recover from Prompto’s onslaught of questions so he could answer him. “Uh, white? Everything was blank. It was—” he paused, swallowing as he recalled how mad he had went, “fucking horrible, actually. I was going insane by the end of it. All they gave me to eat was fucking rice. No wonder I’ve lost weight.”

His last sentence was meant to be a joke, but his chuckle was dry. Prompto didn’t laugh either.

The white cell was a popular urban legend among Vis Legis inmates. Over hushed dinners, someone would speak of a special solitary room where only the worst behaved person would be placed. The only reason they knew of it was because of the guards whispering amongst each other. The ones that had supposedly been sent there had not said a word, usually having been gone for months. The rumours had been more popular several years back when Prompto was in his teens, so hearing Noctis mention it had chilled him right down to his bones. 

Nevertheless, two weeks was a suspiciously short time for him to be placed there. As bad as Prompto imagined such a place to be, he expected for them all to be locked away for much longer. Had the Chancellor had a change of heart, or was he planning something worse? Realistically, it was the second option.

“Why did the Chancellor put you there and not in solitary with us?”

He noticed Noctis flinch at the question. The gears were almost visible in his head as they turned, thinking of a suitable response. Prompto immediately regretted it.

“Guess it was ‘cause I was the ringleader,” came Noctis’ nonchalant reply.

That was true, but still. Something wasn’t quite right with his behaviour, whether that was because of the white cell or something else. Prompto knew it would be unwise to press further. He was just happy to see that his friend was intact, fearing that he would be killed as a result of his rebellion. 

“So, um,” Noctis started again, “How are Ignis and Gladio? They don’t… hate me, right?”

“Oh, no way! Ignis and I were worried about you. All he could talk about was you when we got out. I can’t speak for Gladio, though. He’s been kinda quiet, but I’m sure he doesn’t harbour any bad feelings!”

His words didn’t seem to convince anyone. Noctis gave a weak smile before gazing back at the floor. Prompto shuffled back on his bed and got comfortable, grateful to have a mattress that didn’t feel entirely like bricks. There wasn’t a blanket in solitary in case they tried to hang themselves, so Prompto had shivered through each night. Sometimes they’d even blast the air con for days at a time to further irritate him. 

Still, he kept an eye on Noctis for the remainder of the day. They had been excused from chores considering it was nearly time for dinner anyway, which Prompto was grateful for. He was eager to get talking after a month of silence. They’d occasionally swap snippets of conversation, though it was forced and awkward. Prompto left out the information the Chancellor had forced upon him and did his best to feign an upbeat smile, partially as an attempt to cheer Noctis up. It didn’t work.

Prompto sighed. Well, later he could talk a bit more with the others, and he tried to make himself look forward to it.

* * *

 

Ignis had been sick with worry for his entire period of isolation. No matter what he did, he could not shake the image of Chancellor Izunia from his mind.

The man wasn’t human, he was sure of that. Ignis knew he had not hallucinated how Ardyn had morphed into smoke right before his eyes, almost as if he was teleporting. Nonetheless, what pissed him off was how he had taunted him with such disgusting words. Ignis didn’t want to believe it. The trouble with the Chancellor was that it was so difficult to tell if he was lying or not. His tone of voice never changed—constantly slick with sarcasm. His idea of truth and falsehood blended into one cocktail of ambiguity that Ignis could not make out. In this case, he hoped Ardyn was only screwing with this mind.

Other than that, his time in solitary had been uneventful. It was just day after day of nothingness, with their weekly flogging carried out on the weekend. Ignis had been unfortunate enough to receive some cruel marks across the face and along the chest. They would take months to heal. 

Gladio had been unusually quiet. Not that he was as chatty as say, Prompto, but he was never _this_ silent. When Ignis had met up with him after the guards had dragged them out of their cells, his expression was stony and his poise stiff. Ignis caught a glimpse of a slight limp from where he had been caned across the legs. He had nodded in greeting and then skulked behind them as Prompto did most of the talking. Since Ignis had broken his glasses, he often squinted to read the signs giving directions. He doubted they would give him a new prescription.

He rubbed at his aching eyes once they returned to their cell. Gladio made a beeline for his bed and threw himself onto it. It creaked under his sudden weight.

“Everything alright?” Ignis finally asked. 

“Yup,” Gladio said.

Frowning, Ignis sat on his own bed. He had given up trying to focus and allowed his eyes to glaze over. “You’ve been unusually quiet.”

Gladio’s reaction was poor. He threw an arm over his face and sighed loudly. “Yeah, well, maybe I just don’t want to talk.”

“Did something happen?”

“Like what?”

“To make you upset.” Ignis cleared his throat. “As in, besides the whole failed escape attempt. If you’re angry, I understand completely, but sulking isn’t going to help—”

The tattooed man shot up and growled. His fingernails raked the mattress beneath him as he turned his sharp glare to Ignis, who did not falter. He was long used to Gladio’s short temper. Not that Gladio would ever go berserk, always calming himself down before things got out of hand, yet it often took a gentle word to coax him out of it. 

“What, you want me to pretend it never happened?”

“No, that is not what I—”

“Ignis,” Gladio heaved, exasperated. “We tried to escape, and we were _caught_ . I genuinely expected to die because of it. You want to know what happened so badly? The Chancellor threatened to use my _sister_ against me if I stepped out of line again. I don’t know what he said to you or the others, but I’m not going to go risking Iris’ life for nothing. So if you’re expecting me to be chummy with the prince after this shit, then forget it. He’s had his chance.”

Well, he wasn’t expecting _that_. Ignis watched, stunned, as Gladio turned over so that his back was facing him. His hair was limp and greasy, having lost its luster after being kept in a tiny cell for so long. Ignis could relate. He dragged a hand through his own, grimacing at how it fell over his forehead in an unkempt manner. He didn’t feel like himself—no glasses and unstyled hair. It was miserable.

He did not try to provoke Gladiolus further. His roommate was not in the mood to talk. Ignis couldn’t exactly hold a grudge, however. Noctis _had_ gotten them into a perilous situation even though he hadn’t intended for it to go so wrong. Ignis also felt a twinge of guilt for having agreeing to it first. He knew it was daft, though when Noctis had said that Chancellor Izunia was harassing him—he didn’t know. The rage that boiled his blood was an unknown feeling, a feeling he did not know how to control. Anger was one thing, but the sheer _bloodlust_ he felt was foreign. Ardyn only made it worse by taunting him.

Another thing that had given him a shred of hope was Noctis’ lineage. He was the prince of Lucis. He had access to magic beyond their understanding, even if he couldn’t use it here. Ignis had been foolish enough to think that if they got far enough away, Noctis would be unstoppable. He mentally scolded himself as he glared into the bathroom mirror, cringing at his newly received wounds. 

He was an _eyesore_.

Splashing cold water over them only served to make the stinging worse. He had been given a hi-potion, which had stopped the bleeding and speed up the scabbing process. The flogging marks remained red and angry. He would just have to hope nobody would mention it.

Prompto had asked him earlier, when they were walking back to themselves, if he had any idea of what to do next. It saddened him, really. Prompto had always looked up to him as someone so wise and knowledgeable, when Ignis wasn’t much older than him. His accent might sound fancy, or his words pretty-sounding, but he often didn’t know what he was doing much of the time. He would put on a facade and hoped things would go well when he took charge. Often, they did, and Ignis didn’t know if he could thank himself or thank Lady Luck.

All he _did_ know was that they were going to have to be extremely careful from now on.

* * *

 

Dinner was awkward.

Gladio’s jaw almost broke from the tension he was putting it under, glaring at Noctis from across the table. They had been served gruel again, which Gladio had ignored in favour of stewing in his seat. He was so pissed off he was sure he’d grinded his teeth down.

He had obviously noticed Prompto’s upset expressions and the fear in Noctis’ eyes, yet he didn’t care. He was too angry. How could he not be, when Ardyn had threatened his sister like that? Iris was one of the few things Gladio held precious to him in this hellscape of a world, and he’d die before he let anything happen to her. The moment her name had fallen from Ardyn’s lips, all thoughts of escaping or rebelling had died. It wasn’t worth it. No matter how much the others would beg him, he wasn’t going to be involved again.

He’d also noticed Ignis continuing to gave Noctis’ weird looks. Looks of what, pity? Confusion? It was hard to tell, but it served to make him angrier.

Prompto had tried to make small talk.

“So, um, how’s everyone holding up?” he said.

Noctis shrugged, Gladio continued to say nothing and Ignis was the only one polite enough to respond. “As well as we can be.”

Seemingly about to implode if he was to bear another moment under Gladio’s steely gaze, Noctis squirmed in his seat. “Since we’re all together, I want to say I’m sorry.”

“Noct,” Ignis warned.

“No, I’m going to talk,” said Noctis. “I fucked up. I shouldn’t have roped you all into it. If you hate me, Gladio,” the older male blinked at his name being mentioned, “I get it. You have every right to.”

He stood up and took his half-empty plate, excusing himself. Prompto winced at the sheer awkwardness of the situation, and Ignis sighed and rubbed his temples. Gladio kept motionless, watching Noctis carefully for any other expressions that would betray his apology, but there was nothing. His shoulders were hunched and genuine regret was cast over his face. Even Gladio, who was not always the most observant, noticed that the fire from his eyes was gone. Or, maybe not gone, but _nearly_ gone. He was dangerously close to becoming broken. It did not happen often, although Gladio had seen it. Empty husks of young men that haunted the hallways, more akin to spectres than living people.

Yes, he was angry, though he didn’t want to see Noctis ending up like that, either.

He got up before Ignis could stop him. Noctis was sloping back towards the dorms, and Gladio caught up to him in an empty hallway, just outside of the cafeteria.

“Noct,” he said. The prince turned, surprised to see him. “Look, I’ll keep this short.”

“Yeah?”

Gladio awkwardly rolled his shoulder blades back, testing the small graze the bullet had left. It didn’t hurt much now. “I’ve been an ass today. Solitary makes me stir-crazy. And yeah, I’m annoyed, but not necessarily at _you_. It’s just—Ardyn threatened my sister. She means everything to me. I don’t know where she is, just that’s shes at another facility somewhere. I’d die if anything happened to her, so I want to stay on the down low. For your own sake, you should, too.”

Noctis blinked up at him in shock. His face softened as he processed the information, turning his gaze downwards again. “Oh. I’m sorry he said that.”

“Well, I know he hasn’t been giving you an easy time, either.”

He frowned at Noctis’ reaction. He flinched, though Gladio had not moved a muscle. Had Ardyn hurt him? It seemed like Noctis was reluctant to talk, so Gladio let him go back to his cell.

Everything was just so _frustrating_ . That night, Gladio laid awake, remaining furious about everything. He wished he was safe at home like he had been at one point in his life, not suffering like _this_ . Nobody, not even a prick like Ravus, deserved to rot in Vis Legis. Besides maybe the Chancellor, but that was besides the point. Gladio could not blame Noctis for wanting to get out. They all did. Yet, out of the four of them, he felt like he was the only one _truly_ aware of why escaping wasn’t worth the pain that would be dealt afterwards.

* * *

 

The next week was spent brooding. Noctis, after refusing to speak of his experience in the white cell, had wandered off from his friends one lunch time to hide on his own. He had stationed himself on the side of a building, tucked away from everyone else. He sat on the grass, hand propping his head up as he gazed beyond the fence cutting him off from freedom.

The Niflheimian landscape was dull. Sand blew across the ground where dead grass had failed to remain rooted. There were many mountains far in the distance, seemingly snow-capped. They had to be at the north end of Gralea to see mountains so tall. Noctis shivered and pulled his jacket tighter.

While he had received the news that his father was alive and well, his mood hadn’t improved as he still wasn’t convinced his friends didn’t hate him. Gladio had tried to apologise, and it helped a bit, but Noctis knew he was upset. Why shouldn’t he be? Because of him, they had been landed in solitary for a month and had their families threatened. Even Noctis couldn’t forgive himself for that. He should have just sucked it up and let Ardyn have his way if that was the price of keeping themselves safe. And yet, the mere thought made his underfed stomach roil in fear. After three weeks, the feeling of Ardyn’s hands on him wasn’t going away. It was like the bite of a naga, poison seeping into his skin and festering like the plague. No matter how often he showered, the feeling did not fade.

Ardyn was always there. If he was not permeating the halls of Vis Legis, swaggering around without a care in the world, then he was haunting Noctis’ dreams. Every night it was a mix of the agonising pain he had felt when he was violated and the disgusting pleasure experienced when he was touched in the white cell. As his dreams distorted it, it was often far worse than the reality, Ardyn’s laughter accompanying it as a personal lullaby. He would always wake panting.

Would he even be released at the end of the year? Noctis would not be surprised if the Chancellor haggled for a longer sentence just to torture him further. He snorted at the thought. 

A warbled screech dragged him away from his wandering mind.

Looking up, Noctis caught a large shadow shifting beyond the fence, out of view. He slowly got to his feet to investigate.

Four guards, barking orders wildly, were surrounding the unmistakable shape of the guard zu. The creature’s wings were tied to its body, feet shackled to a heavy weight to keep it on the ground. It was clearly in distress, squawking and kicking at anything that got too close. 

Noctis’ grip on the wire fencing tightened as he watched the scene unfold. What were they doing to it? Shouldn’t the zu be up in the air? He looked on, grimacing at how the guards zapped it with tasers or struck its feet with long whips. The zu eventually collapsed out of exhaustion. One guard threw down his weapon and groaned out loud.

“Forget about the stupid beast. Let it starve if it wants.”

They retreated shortly afterwards. Noctis saw a bucket off to the side, filled with what looked like meat, but the zu was uninterested. It wriggled on the ground in an attempt to get to its feet. It squeaked pathetically.

His heart ached. Noctis tried to push the feeling down. Why should he feel sorry for it? That thing was the reason they were caught, after all! Then he remembered that, no, it was _Ardyn_ who had caught them. The zu didn’t know any better. If it was tortured like this, then Noctis understood why the poor thing did its job. Its talons were bloody and its wing feathers were falling out from the abuse. How it was able to fly was beyond him.

An idea came to mind. Didn’t they keep potions in the training yard? 

The prince hurried off to the large cage they sparred in. It was full of boys wandering around, scuffing their feet against the floor in boredom. Noctis was careful to avoid them and found what he was looking for—a large crate.

It was filled with supplies to quickly fix injuries gained in fighting. Most of it was useless junk such as badly-made bandages and outdated healing salve, though a few potions were found laying at the bottom. They were all either empty or half-full, so Noctis took two. Nobody was paying him any attention, anyway.

The zu remained where he had left it outside of the fence. Its body heaved with tiredness. Still, it was too far away to reach, so Noctis whistled.

It turned its head. The zu, upon seeing his white uniform, hissed.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Noctis cooed, raising the potion. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just… come a bit closer, and I’ll help.”

Did it even understand basic instructions? Ignis had mentioned a whistle, but Noctis obviously didn’t have one. The zu didn’t hiss anymore, though it watched him with a wary eye. It looked at the potion, confused as to what it was, and then back to Noctis.

He waved the potion a little. “You’re hurt, right?”

The zu only needed to come a little closer so that he could throw the potion’s contents over its wounded feet. He could do nothing about its tied wings, but he hoped a small gesture of friendliness would be enough to put it at ease. He had no idea why he went out of his way to do such a thing, though who knew? Maybe Vis Legis had brought out both the worst and the best in him.

Warbling, the zu stuck its head out. Its body was kept close to the ground. It’s beak was close, maybe close enough for Noctis to reach if he was able to put his hand through the wire, but he needed its feet. He continued to beckon it with anything he could think of—condescending kissing noises, tapping his leg and shaking the potion as if it were food. He felt ridiculous, yet what else could he do?

A smile broke out on his face when the zu shuffled closer. It pressed itself against the fence, beak nibbling at the wire mesh. It was fucking _enormous_ , Noctis thought as he gazed up at it. It was as big as a small cargo plane. Its feet were still a little out of reach, but he unscrewed the cap of the potion and tossed it forwards anyway. Jumping back, the zu screeched in surprise, talons raising as the healing substance sprinkled over it. The wounds the guards had inflicted closed right up, just like magic. The wonders of modern healing.

Testing each toe, the zu appeared confused for several minutes. It kept looking back up to Noctis, its nature wanting to be aggressive thanks to his uniform, yet it was reluctant to try and attack him. He _was_ inside the fence, after all. When the zu shuffled a little closer again, Noctis threw the rest of the potions over its wounds.

He didn’t get all of them, but it was enough to put the zu out of its misery. It spent a long time staring at him. Noctis shrank back due to the sheer size of it, and breathed a sigh of relief when the zu harmlessly stood back and walked away.

He watched as the beast clambered out of sight. It disappeared behind a wall, probably back to whatever pen it was kept in.

Noctis had always dreamed of flying. He’d give his teeth to fly—just _once_ . How handy a pair of wings would be right now, with nothing to stop him from taking flight and soaring back to Lucis. He could go anywhere he wanted in the world, even. How he _wished_ he was that zu in its prime. He sank against the fence again, exhaling heavily and allowing his head to lean against it. Well, there was no use in dreaming about the impossible. He was human and that was that. A lousy human with no wings, claws, or anything useful to get him the fuck away from here.

He picture himself on the zu, for a moment. What a thought _that_ was. Laughing bitterly to himself, Noctis imagined the feeling of wind through his hair and the beating of the zu’s wings on either side of him—

Hey, that wasn’t _entirely_ impossible. It had been sort of friendly a moment ago, hadn’t it? 

His heart jumped up to his throat when the most ridiculous, crazy, ludicrous idea he had ever conjured up came to mind. Even Prompto would laugh at this one. Noctis wanted to laugh himself, but it was so impossibly _stupid_ that he couldn’t help except ponder it.

Maybe the way out wasn’t via themselves, or over the fence or through the forest. Ardyn might have unnatural abilities, but he could not fly.

Maybe the way out was on the back of that zu.


	16. Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis finally tells one of his friends about his abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took so long, was feeling a bit uninspired. i managed to sneak some more fuccing in for yall before the final climax. only a few more chapters to go - again, warning for noncon.

**** The weeks passed slowly. Since Noctis and his friends had to be on their best behaviour lest they be thrown back into solitary, nothing noteworthy had occurred.

And, honestly, Noctis preferred it that way.

Ardyn was busy with his Chancellor duties, and Ravus seemed to have taken the hint after his time spent in the water cell. Loqi threw him dirty glances whenever they shared a class together, but that was about as bad as it got. Noctis thanked Aranea in his mind for getting him to back off—even if that was all she could do. The commodore had not been back since her last visit, though they kept an eye out for her. 

One thing that was odd, however, was the fact his bracelet had been left untouched.

Noctis had almost forgotten about it. He hadn’t racked up anymore points since several weeks ago, leaving him at two. Had Ardyn done something? Was he being ‘nice’ to him? Scoffing, the prince shook that thought from his mind. The Chancellor was a mystery and things were probably going to stay that way. Thus, he did his best to continue to avoid the man—daemon—whatever he was as he got about his business.

Lessons were as boring as ever. It was a bit better to have some company this time around. Noctis kept close to Prompto as they sat through their class, watching the blond chew on his pencil through the corner of his eye.

He’d been very quiet as of late. Prompto was usually pretty chirpy despite how harsh Vis Legis was to its inmates, so something must have happened to trigger this episode of silence. Occasionally he would twitch and scrunch up his face in pain, though recovered after a few moments. It was like he was pushing out a painful memory. Noctis had yet to ask him in fear of the result, not worried that Prompto would snap, per se, but more along the lines of making him more upset. He’d hurt his friends enough. Because of him, Prompto had stabbed a guard and got thrown into solitary for a month for dragging him along on his escape plan. 

It was only until they were hiding around the back during lunch period that Noctis decided to say something. Ignis and Gladio were elsewhere, so it gave them a chance to enjoy privacy that wasn’t confined to their cell.

“Prom?” Noctis gently asked. “Is everything okay? You’ve been kinda quiet.”

Prompto jerked in surprise and did one of his fake laughs, waving his hand. “Oh, yeah, sure. Just been having trouble sleeping, is all.”

He was a terrible liar. Noctis frowned and peered to the side. They had hidden themselves around a wall, crouching in the bushes away from the prying eyes of the guards. Not that it was comfortable— leaves and dried spit coated their trousers wherever they sat. It was gross, though it was better than being beat up by the bigger inmates.

Five more minutes passed before Prompto opened his mouth again. “Well... I guess, there is something I want to tell you. Like, if you’re not interested, don’t worry about it, but it’s… been bothering me.”

Noctis gave him an incredulous look, lips pursed and eyes lidded. “Prom. You know I’m interested. I still owe ya big time.”

The blond laughed weakly as he faded back into a forlorn, glassy-eyed expression. He tucked his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. 

“It was when I was in solitary, the night we got caught. The Chancellor… came into my cell.”

Stiffening, Noctis gritted his teeth. Please, please let this not go where he was thinking. Prompto and the others still had no idea what Ardyn had done to him as of yet, and he wasn’t sure if he should tell them. He  _ wanted _ to, but he was afraid of coming off as attention seeking.  _ Oh, the Chancellor made me have sex with him, feel sorry for me despite me risking all your asses in my dumb escape attempt _ . Noctis had to swallow the nervous lump rising in his throat at the thought. 

He stayed silent so Prompto could finish. “Dad was shouting at me. Y’know, for getting out. Ardyn stopped him and then said that he was ‘looking out for me’.” Prompto let out a huff. “I know he’s my dad, though it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Ardyn then started talking about how I was… a creation. A clone.”

Noctis shot up. “A what?!”

Prompto’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. I know. I didn’t believe it, at first, but then I… I asked my dad himself.”

His lips were quivering. While he was not quite at the verge of tears, he struggled to get his words out. His mouth was thick with saliva, swallowing it down to continue speaking. Noctis tilted his head. He didn’t know cloning was possible.  _ Was _ it? Was Ardyn just fucking with him? It seemed so farfetched, so bizarre, yet there was a deep hurt in Prompto’s eyes that stopped Noctis from questioning him.

“He got angry. He yelled about Ardyn telling me, and then kind of just gave up. He showed me, Noct. I saw them. They’re all at the other imperial bases for making MTs, but… he showed me a prototype. There was a real fucking person with  _ my _ face in a tube. Explains the barcode, at least.”

Burying his head in his knees, Prompto let out a deep sigh. Noctis sat back, processing the information.

Was Niflheim really that fucked up? Well, of course they were. If they could run shitholes such as this one, then they could pull off some cloning.  _ How _ was another matter. Did it make sense? Yes and no. Noctis had always thought Prompto was eerily similar to Verstael. While there was at least an 18 year age gap between them, they had the same hair, the same freckles, the same facial structure. While Prompto was scrawnier, they could have easily been mistaken as brothers if one didn’t know better. Not to mention, the tattooed barcode. While Noctis struggled to get his head around cloning, he could  _ see _ it. As for the MTs, well, that explained how they got so many soldiers so quickly.

Why had Ardyn gone and told him that? Sudden anger bubbled up in his chest. The  _ bastard _ . Prompto was so sweet and innocent, how could anyone hurt him like that? Noctis almost staggered when the anger was replaced by a horrific dread.

Ardyn had told him because of  _ him _ . To torture him further as a punishment for escaping. If Prompto never had escaped, then he would still be living in blissful ignorance. Was that even better? Noctis didn’t know, but he was unable to stop the sob that wracked his body.

Prompto lifted his head. “Noct?”

“I’m so sorry,” the prince heaved, hands coming up to hide his face.

“Whoa, whoa! Why are you crying, dude? It’s not your fault!”

“It’s—if I hadn’t made you escape, then he wouldn’t have  _ told _ you! It’s all  _ my _ fault.” He fisted his hands in his raven locks, tugging them so hard he nearly tore out strands from his own head. “I just,  _ fuck _ . I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry—”

He gasped when he felt Prompto’s hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see wide blue eyes staring at him.

“Hey! Look, stop blaming yourself!” he cried. “I don’t blame you for wanting to get out! Vis Legis fucking sucks, I know more than anyone here. And hey, you got us pretty far, didn’t you? I’m still shocked we got over the fence.”

There was another nervous laugh that only served to make Noctis growl in frustration. Removing his hands from his hair, he slammed them against the concrete.

“No, Prom, you don’t  _ get _ it. Ardyn was screwing with us. He told me he let us get out just to see how far we’d get. It was a fluke. The lack of guards, no patrols—it was on purpose!”

“How do you know that?”

“He _ told _ me.”

A long silence was cast between the two of them. Noctis managed to stop sobbing, much to his relief, yet his eyes remained red and puffy. Gods, how embarrassing. Even Prompto’s eyes were glistening, but he hadn’t straight up cried yet.

Noctis leant his head against the wall and exhaled. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s my fault you stabbed that guard, and it was my fault you got thrown into solitary. I’m surprised you want to hang out with me.”

Prompto gave him a smile. “Well, no biggie about the guard, right? I didn’t get punished.”

The prince snickered dryly. “Yeah.”

To his surprise, Prompto caught the hesitation in his voice. Eyes narrowed, he shifted backwards to give themselves more space. He lingered closely, however, now sitting cross-legged. “Noct, did you do something?”

Noctis twitched unknowingly. “Do what?”

“I mean, it’s weird that I never got in trouble for that. I didn’t see where they took you. Did you… I don’t know, convince them to let me go? Like, they’d always punish me! Dad—my creator—whatever the fuck he is, would have chewed me out himself! I just don’t understand.”

The poor child. Noctis watched as he fumbled over his words, trying to work out the situation for himself. His eyes darted from his hands to the floor, back to Noctis and then to the floor again. 

“Yeah, sure, I talked to Ardyn. That was all.”

Prompto looked back to him. “You what?”

“I talked to Ardyn.”

“You can’t just…  _ talk _ to the Chancellor! He wouldn’t let me go for  _ any _ reason!” The irony. He just wasn’t thinking hard enough. Noctis realised he must have started trembling again, because Prompto’s hands were back on his shoulders. “Noctis, what  _ happened _ ?”

Needless to say, Prompto was stunned when Noctis suddenly grabbed him. Jerking him towards him, he pressed his head into his chest as he wailed. Prompto, frozen at first, felt warm tears soak the front of his shirt as Noctis slumped forwards. His legs were stuck in an awkward position, bent beneath him at an angle, although he was crying too hard to notice. Prompto hesitantly wrapped his arms around to pat him on the back.

“Noct?”

“H—he, I… He said he’d let you go if I did him a favour, and I…”

It was a long time before he spoke in coherent words. Prompto’s shirt was soaked in tears by the time Noctis let go. He tried to apologise, but Prompto wouldn’t let him.

It was hard to get out. Noctis began at the beginning, speaking briefly of how Ardyn would touch him, especially when they were alone. He thought nothing of it at first until their encounter in the hallway. Noctis was a tad less specific on that, just mentioning how he’d gotten too close to comfort. 

Most dreadingly, Noctis forced himself to explain what happened the day of the stabbing. 

Disgust wouldn’t begin to describe how he felt relaying the memories all over again. The taste of bitter flesh on his tongue, the pain on his scalp as Ardyn yanked his hair. While he left those particular details out, he told Prompto. The feelings of coming off as attention-seeking were pushed down by the overwhelming need to get his agony out. He told him how Ardyn had blackmailed him when he didn’t comply. How he’d been forced to get on his knees and—

“Fuck, Noct,” Prompto whispered, eyelashes wet. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Noctis gave another dry laugh as he’d done earlier. He was more surprised he hadn’t started crying again, but he supposed he’d already gotten it all out by now. “My fault, remember?”

“No, it isn’t! He fucking… he had no right to  _ do _ that!” The blond clenched his fists. “Screw him. If I ever get the chance to shoot him, I damn well  _ will _ .”

“He’s not human, Prom.”

Prompto shifted his gaze to him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, though he materialised right in front of me. He can warp. There was black stuff dripping from his eyes—I don’t know what it was, but I don’t think he can just be shot.”

His heart warmed when Prompto gripped his wrist.

“I don’t care. We’re getting the  _ hell _ out of here.”

* * *

 

For the first time in months, Noctis felt… good.

It wasn’t much. After their tearful conversation, the two boys had apologised over and over to each other. At the end of it, they didn’t even know  _ why _ they churned out the word ‘sorry’ like they knew nothing else, but they didn’t stop until the bell went. Noctis couldn’t believe he’d actually told Prompto of his abuse, yet he felt somewhat proud. Naturally, he left out the more… intense parts that had occurred later on, though he didn’t feel the need to tell him. Not yet, anyway.

Poor Prompto. It must have crushed him to learn his origins like that. Noctis sent a prayer to the Astrals, thanking them for the father he had been gifted with. Despite his situation, in many ways, he was lucky.

How he missed his dad. How was he faring, he wondered? It was good that he was alive, but he surely couldn’t be having a good time. From what Noctis had gathered of the situation when they had been apprehended, Niflheim had formed a contract that Regis would be spared and granted a ‘citizenship’ as long as he did what they said. He agreed only for the fact he had a son he cared too much about. Noctis was grateful, really, but surely he was no more valuable than the rest of Lucis.

Noctis’ thoughts were cut off into a feeling of sudden horror when he heard a familiar sound.

_ Click, click, click. _

Footsteps. Not just any footsteps, either. Noctis would know that horrific noise  _ anywhere _ . Memories of ruby carpets and dimly lit offices flooded his vision all at once. He darted into a side corridor, racing until he got to the end and pressed himself against the wall. His throat went dry at the sound of the jangle of metallic, decorative spurs. The clicking was the result of the hard soles of boots. The Chancellor was back, and he was _ far _ too close for his liking.

Only when the sound faded did Noctis let out a breath. It was hard to pinpoint where it had been coming from, although all Noctis cared about was being a long way away from it.

He began to turn before a shadow loomed over him.

Ardyn beamed, hands clasped together, one leg crossed over the other. “Ah, hello, pet.”

Noctis  _ screamed _ .

He almost fell over as he struggled to get away, but Ardyn had his paws on him in a matter of seconds. Noctis felt himself getting shoved against the wall and held there firmly. He sucked in air through clenched teeth.

“I spend my days busy with imperial duties, and this is how you welcome me back? I must say, I’m offended, Noct.”

“Get off me,” Noctis snarled.

Ardyn only laughed. “Where did this sudden confidence come from?”

In truth, Noctis didn’t know. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream that inspired him to fight back. He had not seen Ardyn in weeks, so the shock of seeing his face now made his body act by itself. Noctis squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the Chancellor press against him, his body so much bigger and  _ stronger _ . There was nothing he could do.

A deep chuckle vibrated against his neck. “How have you been faring?” Noctis yanked his head away stubbornly. Ardyn then huffed, gripping his left arm. “Hm, still at two points? How long has it been since you were given another one? I dare say  _ too _ long, in fact.”

The feeling of bony fingers wrapping around his wrist snapped Noctis’ eyes open, though it was too late to pull his arm away.

“Hey!”

A third point had been added, Ardyn somehow slipping his remote out of his pocket discreetly.

He hadn’t even  _ done _ anything! Noctis struggled uselessly as Ardyn recovered his wrist and added a fourth point, chortling gleefully at his despair. By the time Noctis managed to push him away, he blinked down at a full set of five glowing, green points on his bracelet.

“Oh, my,” Ardyn purred, eyes narrowed into yellow slits. “Look at that. You’ve gone and gotten yourself into a fine mess.”

“You—” Noctis hissed, lunging forwards before Ardyn pushed him away.

“Come to my office, pet. Lest a guard see your wrist and give you a caning, hm?”

Tears of frustration burned his eyes. Noctis felt like screaming, ripping his hair out and tackling Ardyn to the ground as he’d done back in his office. The urge to tear into this beast’s throat was  _ unbearable _ . In the span of five seconds, Noctis conjured the most vile imaginary deaths he could think of, hoping to soften his anger.

It didn’t.

He had to be dragged to the office. He did not necessarily fight or run, but his legs wouldn’t move. His shoes squeaked horrendously against the floor, hand going numb in Ardyn’s grip. 

Noctis fell with a thud to find himself face down yet  _ again _ .

“I didn’t do anything!” he spat, teeth bared in a rabid snarl. “You can’t just…  _ do _ that!”

“You forget I am the Chancellor of Niflheim, boy. I can do whatever I please.”

Ardyn sauntered past and dropped the remote carelessly to the table. Removing his outer coat, Ardyn turned to face him again, that obnoxious grin on his face. Noctis wished he could wipe it off with a punch.

He wasn’t completely ignorant. Noctis knew that Ardyn had no intention of using the whip.

“Now, I have a meeting in an hour. I do not wish to spend my time fighting with you, so make things easier for the both of us and lie down on the sofa.”

The prince glanced to his left. He had missed it before, catching sight of a leather couch several feet behind Ardyn’s desk, pressed against the back wall. It looked new. There were bookcases on either side as well as a computer, and the sofa was pretty large.

Noctis scoffed, rubbing at his face with the back of his hand. “Did you really have to give me three more points just to ask that?”

“Perhaps if you behaved, I would not be pushed to such drastic measures.” Ardyn’s tone was smug.

The son of a  _ bitch _ .

When Noctis didn’t move, Ardyn merely sighed and leant back against the desk. The playful smirk disappeared into an expression of feigned exhaustion. “Don’t make me punish one of your friends, Noct. We wouldn’t want to see Prompto fall victim to such brutality, now would we?”

Scratch son of a bitch, this man was a complete bastard. Noctis knew that anyway, but he…  _ ugh _ ! Why threaten Prompto after all he had done to hurt him? The thoughts of cloning crept back up. He wondered if Ardyn played any part in it. Probably not, seeing as he wasn’t a scientist. It still didn't make it any better. Noctis got to his feet reluctantly, taking a cautious step forward.

“ _ Fine _ .”

Ardyn watched with glinting eyes as Noctis slumped down. He tucked his legs together and folded his hands in front of him primly.

Laughing, Ardyn waltzed over, that irritating swagger always present in his step. “I said to  _ lie  _ down.”

Noctis scooted away from him and stuck one leg across the length of the sofa. It was then Ardyn lost his patience and leapt on top of him, arms forcing his wrists down and using his own legs to shift him underneath. He towered above, red hair spilling down to tickle Noctis’ skin. The prince flinched when Ardyn took hold of his shirt collar and began to unbutton it.

“Can’t you just whip me?” Noctis groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“That is a tad barbaric, don’t you think?”

The irony.

It was hard to keep the bile from creeping up his throat when he felt Ardyn remove his shirt. The force of cold air made him shudder. Ardyn then pushed his jaw up with his nose and chewed on his neck.

Mind shutting down, Noctis tried not to think about it. He tried so hard not to listen to the growls of lust, the teeth nibbling his throat, the feeling of utter  _ disgust _ as Ardyn palmed him through his trousers. He spent an agonisingly long time running his hands everywhere, feeling every inch of skin as if Noctis would crumble away if he didn’t. As if he were a porcelain doll. His skin was pale enough to pass as one, Ardyn thought idly as he removed the rest of Noctis’ uniform, much to his dissent.

It wasn’t long before Noctis found himself with his teeth in Ardyn’s shoulder, biting down cries of pain as he was fucked into the leather.

It wasn’t as bad as it had been on his desk. At least Ardyn had the courtesy to use lubricant this time around, though it still hurt. White hot pain shot through his body every few seconds, a long, agonising drag following shortly afterwards. Noctis took the opportunity to dig his nails into Ardyn’s back—a futile attempt at hurting him. The Chancellor hardly seemed to notice, chest pressed against him. Noctis couldn’t tell what position was worse. Being bent over the desk was humiliating, but being on his back meant that Ardyn could see every pained expression he made.

“Surely this is better than the last time, hm?” he chuckled throatily. He had now leaned back to get an eyeful of Noctis’ tear-stained face.

“Fuck off,” Noctis wheezed.

Ardyn shrugged and resumed his pace. Noctis had mostly stopped whining by now, though the occasional whimper slipped out.

The prince shifted around, trying to see if getting into another position would make things more comfortable. Not that he wanted to enjoy this, but the way his legs were wrapped around Ardyn’s waist made his thighs ache. He made the fatal error of shifting his hips forward before a stab of pleasure shot through his stomach, and he moaned lowly.

The snickering returned. “Yes, that’s it. Good boy.”

“No,  _ fuck _ you, I don’t want this—” Noctis strained to choke out before Ardyn hit that spot again. His breath hitched.

It felt good, yet not for long as Ardyn quickened his pace and Noctis was sent back to howling in agony. No, it wasn’t pleasure, just some sick, warm feeling that spread around his insides. Nothing Ardyn ever did to him would feel ‘good’.

Noctis thanked the gods when Ardyn finally reached his climax. He groaned and shuddered, taking his time in riding out his orgasm. He lay limply on top of Noctis while breathing only slightly heavily. Since he hadn’t bothered undressing for the act, all he needed to do was clean himself up before refastening some loose buttons. Noctis shot him a death glare as he did so.

Ardyn remained relaxed as he went back to his desk to sort out papers as if the sin he had committed had not just happened.

Noctis was reluctant to get up, but it didn’t feel good to lie here covered in his own sweat. He sat up and reached for his uniform again.

“Do leave when you’re finished dressing,” Ardyn said nonchalantly.

Oh, gladly. 

Fully dressed, Noctis turned to make a run for itbefore he noticed his bracelet still remained at five points. Ardyn had forgotten to reset it. Noctis stuck his wrist out.

The Chancellor arched a brow, but went to reset the bracelet. Noctis tried to yank his hand loose, however Ardyn yanked him forwards, to pull him into a kiss. His tongue slipped out, causing Noctis to gag unexpectedly.

There was the flavour of that wine again. Bitter and fruity.

“Another time, then.”

As people were hovering around in the outside hallways, it took Noctis everything he had not to break down on the spot. He forced his shoulders to remain back and his head high. Some gave him suspicious looks, especially when Noctis realised Ardyn had left a nasty bruise on his neck and there was a slight limp in his step that could not be blamed on the daemon from so long ago, but he shrugged his collar so that it wasn’t as visible. He couldn’t act guilty. They’d know for sure, then.

Prick. Noctis chewed his lip as he made his way for his next scheduled lesson. It was no less pleasant than all the other times Ardyn had abused him, although he was thankful it was only him and not anyone else. If he had to sacrifice himself for them, then he would.

Still, now that he knew his friends would suffer in some way or other, Noctis had not forgotten Prompto’s words to him. They  _ would _ get out.

As for how, well, there was the zu, yet it was such a farfetched plan that Noctis was beginning to lose hope in it. How could he realistically tame that beast?

“Prince.”

Jumping out of his skin, Noctis whirled around to see a flurry of silver hair and black armour.

“Aranea?”

Finally, a friendly face. She gave him a gentle smile, too hesitant to put her hand on his shoulder, except he could see the intentions behind the way her arm twitched.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

Heh, bad timing. Noctis shrugged. “Alright, I guess.”

The commodore didn’t seem to believe him, though she didn’t press. “Well, I have some good news for you. I don’t know how you’re feeling after your last escape attempt, but I have connections. We can get you out.”


	17. Kotov Syndrome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aranea discusses her plan with Noctis. The prince tries to remain hopeful despite his circumstances.

****At the notion of another possibility of getting out, Noctis burst into tears.

Aranea had to quickly escort him to the nearest supply closet so that his blubbering wouldn’t attract attention. Once they had sealed themselves in the dark, Noctis slumped against the wall, hot tears streaming down his face. His sobs were quiet—however, Aranea could hear the way they wracked his breathing.

“Whoa, you alright?” she asked, a hand reaching out to grab his shoulder.

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Sorry, it’s just— _Ardyn_.”

The commodore frowned heavily. “What’s he done now?”

Noctis’ silence was enough to answer her question. He had recently come out of the Chancellor’s office, after all. Aranea’s frown turned into a scowl.

“The sick son of a bitch,” she spat. “Good thing I’m here now. Look—my contacts, Biggs and Wedge, they sometimes do delivery runs for Vis Legis. They can get a van here and disguise it as a legitimate delivery. I’ll get you four on and then we’ll all get the fuck out of here. How does that sound?”

Stunned, Noctis’ blinked away the last of his tears. These contacts of hers would just drive into the Vis Legis estate, park up and _somehow_ smuggle them on board without anyone noticing? It seemed a bit farfetched, but it was far more realistic than his first plan. His earlier idea of taming the zu had become more and more idiotic to him. His encounter with Ardyn weighed on his soul like a black hole.

He sniffed before wiping his eyes.

“Won’t you be noticed?”

“Since they’ve been here before, it should be fine. I can schedule them to come this Thursday. What’s your lessons for then?”

Noctis thought for a moment. “History in the morning. Ignis and Gladio are in politics, I think. Then we swap classrooms in the afternoon.”

“Guess we’ll have to work after hours,” Aranea said in thought.

Surely, they couldn’t try and break out at night again. Not when last time had gone so terribly. What if Ardyn was watching? What if he spent every night glaring at the camera footage, just _waiting_ for an escape attempt to occur? How would Aranea even get them out of their cells in the first place? Curfew was at eight, and in the hour before, guard patrols were thick. They couldn’t go outside, either. The hope that had sprung up in his chest dimmed the more he thought about it.

No, Aranea was being too optimistic. Not to mention that Noctis didn’t want anything to happen to her if she failed. She would be fired if she was lucky. The prince didn’t doubt for a moment that Ardyn would be just as cruel to her as he was to him. Sure, he could risk his life by using the zu, but that didn't involve anyone else.

“I appreciate it, Aranea, but I don’t think it’s going to work.” Noctis blew out a sigh. “What if Ardyn hurt you?”

To his surprise, she laughed.

“You think I’m sticking around afterwards? There’s no way I’m serving the empire after all of this. Mercenary or not, I won’t work for rapists.”

The last word stung like a slap in the face. She was right, but… it was such an _ugly_ term. Noctis knew he was being oversensitive, though he couldn’t help besides cringe at the mere sound of it. He rubbed his palms into his eyesockets to hold back any further tears.

“Sure, but… what if we get caught? Gladio has a sister.”

“Iris Amicitia?”

Noctis raised a brow. “You know her?”

Aranea nodded, green eyes flicking away in thought. “Yeah. She’s at the other end of Gralea at an all-girls facility. From what I’ve seen, that place is better than here, so you can tell Gladio that. But since I assume Ardyn’s threatened to do something, I’ll make sure she’ll be alright.”

The all-female facilities were quite a bit different than the boys'. Aranea had been to a handful, including the one hat housed the Oracle, though they did not spend as much money on their training seeing as Niflheim preferred male soldiers if possible. The more gifted girls were giving training lessons, some which Aranea had taught, but most were pushed in the engineering direction.

“How are you going to do that?” Noctis murmured incredulously.

“Biggs and Wedge are my main guys, although I do have other people working with me. I’ll get them to keep an eye on things. When we get far away from here to a safe location, we can always go back and rescue her, too.”

Would that _work?_ Even if they got out of Gralea, getting back in would be even riskier. The city was built like a giant fortress. Intricate webs of magiteknology wove through the darkened streets, catching any unmarked vehicles in its grasp. The van they used would be easily tracked and caught. Every option came to a dead end. Niflheim were truly unbeatable. 

He turned his head away. His raven hair covered his eyes, though he could see Aranea watching him in concern. She wanted an answer, but for some reason he found it painful to say no. He _wanted_ to say yes, wanted to believe that this could truly work. However, if Niflheim could subjugate a zu—one of Eos’ most capable beasts—then what couldn’t they do?

Images of the poor animal with its chafed skin and ruffled feathers flashed in his mind. If _they_ couldn’t escape, then Noctis at least wanted to see the zu go.

He paused.

He'd considered riding it before, hadn't he? It was such a ridiculous idea that it had been slowly snuffed out like a dying fire as the days went by, but this was his _chance_. Perhaps the van would be traceable, but if they got rid of the tracking device on its leg, then they'd never be able to find it.

This was his chance to use it and save _all_ of them.

“Wait,” he suddenly said. “Aranea, you know the guard zu?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to get me one of the whistles the guards use to summon it.”

The commodore let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m sorry?”

“I know you have a van, though Niflheim could easily track it once they realise we’ve gone missing. That’s where our _second_ ride comes in.”

Indeed, his earlier plan was coming into motion. Noctis couldn’t believe he was getting himself to do this, but with the combined efforts of both them and Aranea, they’d be able to throw Niflheim off their scent. It was even better than just hopping on the zu from the beginning. Aranea already seemed to get what he was saying by the expression on her face. Her eyes were wide and her lips twisted into an awkward smile—as if she couldn’t get his words through her mind. He didn’t blame her.

Still, she listened as he explained herself. He’d already had a decent encounter with the beast. Not that Noctis was some kind of bird whisperer, though he didn’t believe the zu was malicious. It was just doing what it was trained to do. Its eyes had softened when he had thrown that healing potion at its feet. For that moment, he hoped they understood each other as inmates on opposite sides of a fence.

“You’re crazy, prince, but I can respect that.” Aranea’s face relaxed as she folded her arms. “Alright, I’ll get a whistle and give it to you later. Act normal until Thursday. I’ll keep you updated.”

Since it was Monday, they had three full days to operate. That should be enough time. All Noctis had to do was figure out how the whistle worked, and the zu would be theirs to command. After giving each other a nod of farewell, the two slipped out of the storage closet and made for opposite directions. 

Despite his negativity before, Noctis allowed that star of hope to form again after Ardyn had crushed it. He wouldn’t be broken.

Seeing as it was almost the end of the day, Noctis avoided going to the remainder of whatever class he had and went straight outside. The guards ignored him as it was time to be leaving, anyway. This was his opportunity to learn.

He hid behind one of the buildings. Noctis watched as some guards wrangled with what he assumed to be the zu’s whistle. They blew on it only once to hail the gigantic bird from the skies. It was probably dinner time for it. The zu screeched, yet did not attack its summoners. Its wings folded against its thin body as it clambered towards a pail of meat. The way its razor sharp teeth crunched through bone effortlessly sent a shudder down the prince’s spine. If this ridiculous plan went wrong, then the zu could just as easily rip them all apart.

But he couldn’t think like that.

Once the guards disappeared, Noctis approached the fence. The zu hadn’t noticed him as it ate. Up close, he could hear the snapping of cartridge and saw the way the zu tilted its head back to swallow. When it had finished the last leg of whatever animal had been its meal, it swivelled its gaze around to see Noctis to its right.

It snarled in caution. Noctis held up his hands.

“Hey, it’s me again.” He didn’t know why he was talking to it. He just hoped he gave the impression he was friendly. “Y’know, Noctis. I healed your foot a while back. Wonder if you have a name?”

Probably not, he thought as the zu eyed him. It had stopped warbling, although it hadn’t moved closer. Noctis clung onto the wire mesh and rested his head against it. Memories of earlier haunted him—Ardyn’s fingers on his ribs and mouth on his neck. There were most likely bruises. He shivered as he tried to stop the tears from spilling forth once more.

“Fuck. I just—I hope this will work. I don’t know how much longer I can take in this place. I’m sure you’re fed up too, huh?” He laughed dryly. “Yeah. I don’t have the whistle yet, but… I’m gonna pray you listen to us. I know you’ve got your own problems, but we could get you out of here as well as us. What I wouldn’t give…”

He was crying again. Noctis cursed his emotional state to hell and back. Here was, whimpering and talking to a damn zu as if it could understand him. He was officially going crazy.

So when the feeling of soft feathers pressed against his head, he stumbled back in shock in the belief he was hallucinating.

The zu had walked up as he was talking and had lowered its head close enough for him to touch. As he moved away, the zu opened its eyes, but it was still within reach.

Slowly, cautiously, Noctis raised his hand. He felt the tips of the zu’s feathers before there was a shout of protest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a guard hollered in his direction. Noctis yanked his hand back to see two guards running towards him, canes in hand. “Do you want to get your arm bitten off, you idiot?”

Noctis winced as the cane slapped the palm of his hand. The guard did not stop at only one, instead striking him five times. They pulled him away from the fence, ignoring the zu as it shrieked in alarm. Noctis didn’t know if it was startled or angry. Due to the suddenness of the guards intrusion, he could safely assume both.

He was quickly dragged back inside. They didn’t do much else besides from give him a point, so he slunk away to his cell. Well, as pitiful as that attempt at been, he felt like that was progress. The zu had actually approached him! Despite how awful his mood was because of today, Noctis felt his chest swell with pride. This could actually be manageable.

The plan that he’d run through with Aranea quickly had been to use not two, but three methods of transportation. One of the men she had mentioned would drive a delivery truck to the camp this Thursday as aforementioned. Somehow Noctis and the others would jump in while nobody was looking, and get the fuck _out_ of there before the guards noticed. He was still unsure of the the timing, though Aranea had said she’d update him once she figured out the lesser details. Once they’d done that and gotten the zu in tow, then Aranea would follow in _her_ car and they’d swap once they’d gotten far enough away from the base. Noctis presumed he’d have his magic by then, so he was more confident in fighting off any MTs that managed to find them. The driver would continue on to lead a false trail, and once Aranea had gotten them to Noctis’ apartment, they’d pick up his dad and leave on the zu if they hopefully got it to tag along with them. It was why he was so desperate to get it to listen to him. In the air, they could get out of the city so much easier. Where they’d go from there wasn’t planned, but they’d play that by ear. Escaping safely was their top priority.

Noctis wasn’t sure why he allowed himself to feel so high in excitement. Why should he, when his last attempt had gone so awfully? Perhaps it was the mania from his recent trauma. Ardyn’s words and feelings had never left him, even when they were physically apart. It was horrific. He knew it would never leave him, no matter how far he ran.

That was why he wanted to escape above all his other reasons. Even if Ardyn was in his head, that was better than having him violate him so intimately in person.

Really, Noctis realised he hadn’t had much time to actually process it. He’d been raped repeatedly and left in a blank cell to slowly go insane. He’d been whipped, punched, drowned and tortured in so many ways in his short stay at Vis Legis. So why _now_  did he feel so numb about it? He had the strangest feeling if similar events had occurred back in the safety of his own house, then he would have gotten most of his crying out of the way by now. 

Eventually, he figured, he didn’t have actually have the chance to mourn his personal losses. He’d barely had time to realise they had lost the war before being shipped off to Niflheim. 

He bit out a chuckle. No wonder he was so messed up. He had all these emotions trapped inside of him and had released only a fraction of it. Only Aranea and Prompto knew, and he still hadn’t told them everything. He was not entirely ignorant when it came to matters of the mind. Noctis knew it would take years to recover. 

Maybe he never would.

Strangely, he was okay with that. As long as he and his friends got out alive, and they saved his Dad, Luna, Iris—everyone important to him—he tried not to care about the fact that Ardyn might never truly leave him. 

A king would always have his burdens, right? That’s what his dad would say, shrugging off Noctis’ repeated checks on him. It was not the most healthy way of coping with things, but for now, it would have to do. 

Prompto was already in their cell by the time Noctis returned. The blond looked up.

“Hey, you good?” he asked softly.

Noctis almost forgot about their talk earlier. He forced a fake smile. “Yeah. Thanks for checking up on me.”

He then realised that his friends had yet to know of the second plan to bust out. They’d undoubtedly be angry, and Noctis couldn’t blame them. Prompto had discovered his origins in the most brutal way possible, Gladio’s sister had been used as blackmail against him, and Ignis—well, Noctis wasn’t quite sure, but if Ardyn had anything to do with it then it was bound to be terrible.

Should he just keep quiet?

He really didn’t know the correct answer. He didn’t want to lie, yet he figured they would not respond well to an escape plan. Noctis wrung his fingers as he considered his options. In the end, he decided not to say anything. Not right now, at least. Maybe he’d ask Aranea to break it to them. She’d be here again tomorrow, right? While it was never a guarantee she’d be here every week, Tuesday was usually her main day.

She said she’d be back later with that whistle. Noctis tried to push the thoughts of Ardyn and the plan out of his head as he took a much needed nap before dinner.

* * *

 

The phone calls had been made. Biggs and Wedge had listened dutifully, and the plans were set in place. Aranea pocketed her cell as she slipped away from the staff lounge and down towards the guards common room.

The commodore tried not to tremble in apprehension. She’d never done anything this risky before. She wasn’t scared of the empire, although she _was_ scared of something happening to the boy she’d grown so fond of. It broke her heart to see him in such emotional distress. If she had the chance, she’d stab the Chancellor in the back. A scowl pulled at her lips in frustration.

Regardless, it was good that her men had been on board. Not that they’d ever argue with her, though she had expected some hesitation. The two had agreed without a word of disagreement—Wedge would be driving the delivery truck, and Biggs would get Aranea’s car ready at the designated swapping point. There was a fork in the road where the normal delivery route travelled along. That part was easy enough. Whether Noctis got the zu to listen to him or not was up to debate. If not, then they'd have to continue by car.

It was nerve wracking imagining driving through Gralea’s streets with the empire on their tail sooner rather than later, but Aranea couldn’t afford to get freaked out. 

The guard’s room was deserted apart from one. He lingered at the door, fiddling with a lighter and an unlit cigarette. He glanced at her at first, and upon recognising her, lowered his lighter and gave a lazy grin.

“Commodore,” he greeted. Aranea forced herself to smile back.

“Would you mind if I slipped past you? I’ve forgotten something for the training session I have scheduled tomorrow.”

The guard’s room acted as both their break area and a storage room. It was nowhere near as fancy as the staff lounge she was given permission to access. 

The guard blew smoke to the side of his head, ‘politely’ away from her face. “What do you need? I can get it for you.”

Ugh—the men here were always like this. Easy to woo since there wasn’t another woman for miles, but they’d forget what position Aranea held. She was miles of rankings above them, though since she didn’t work here full time, she couldn’t put them in their place.

“Oh, really, it would be best if I retrieved it myself. Just so that I get the right thing.” She gave a false giggle. If she batted her eyelashes, then it usually got her what she wanted. 

On cue, the guard gave her a nod as he flicked the ash from his cigarette right onto the floor. Aranea slid around him. The room was a mess of discarded cans and bloodied whips, yet she knew the item she saught had to be here somewhere. Way too many of the guards carried a whistle just in case the zu started acting up. How they trained such a beast was beyond her, but like clockwork, it would descend to the ground when called. She hoped it would work for Noctis.

Aranea’s eyes lit up once she caught a gleaming black object on one of the tables. Perfect.

“What are you doing in here?” came a deep voice.

She whirled around after snatching the whistle up. Verstael lingered in the doorway after having pushed the guard aside. Aranea struggled to make up a convenient excuse on the spot, seeing as Verstael could not be charmed like the lowly guards. In the end, she laughed and waved her hand flippantly.

“I can ask the same of you.”

Verstael raised an eyebrow. He looked her up and down. She was still in her full armour, having no reason to wear it when she had nothing due at this time. Annoyed by her response, the man scowled.

“ _I_ ask the questions around here, Highwind,” he said sharply.

Okay, well, so much for the innocent girl act. Aranea bowed her head. “Of course, sir. I dropped my contact lenses.”

“...You wear contacts?”

“For reading,” Aranea said quickly. It was the absolute worst lie she could have told, but it looked like Verstael was believing her. Maybe. “I’ll be taking my leave, Chief. It seems I’ve left them elsewhere.”

He watched her with narrow eyes as she left the room. Aranea tried not to run around the corner, eager to be out of his sight. She blew out a shaky breath once she had the privacy of white hallways closing in on her. The whistle safely tucked into a side pocket, she made her way towards the cafeteria where Noctis would presumably be at this hour. 

She hoped the scientist wouldn’t linger on Thursday. He often skulked around his laboratory after hours, which unfortunately happened to be near the delivery car park. Aranea ran a hand through her hair. She’d have to deal with that on the day.

Noctis was crammed on a table with his friends on either side. The commodore spotted Gladiolus guarding him from the left and Ignis to his right. Prompto sat opposite them, clearly in the middle of a conversation.

She dared not approach them with so many people around. Instead, Aranea shifted so that she was in Noctis’ line of sight by the doorway. She gave him a nod of the head once he seemed to spot her.

Noctis quickly excused himself. He smiled once Aranea handed him the whistle once they ducked around the corner.

“Keep this out of sight, prince,” she said. “I don’t know if the zu’s going to listen to you, but make sure to use it out of range of the guards. And only once we leave. It flies about a mile outside of the camp's perimeters.”

“Got it.” Noctis shoved the whistle into his jacket pocket. “Thanks. You got your contacts on our side?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. The delivery van will be here at around seven on Thursday. I managed to get one of my guys on the van dropping off weaponry, so be sure to take some for yourselves when you leave.”

Granted, there was not _much_ weaponry, yet Aranea knew there would be some decent rifles on board. 

“Do your friends know?” she asked.

Noctis grimaced and shuffled his feet. “No. I’m kind of, uh, nervous to tell them because of last time. But if you’ve got Gladio’s sister safe, then I suppose…”

“Tell him it’s all under control. I won’t let anything happen to her, nor the Oracle, while under watch from _my_ men.”

She quickly gave Noctis a parting hug seeing as no cameras spied on them, and sent him on his way. She watched him go silently before deciding not to push her luck further and be out of this damned place. She would not be able to come back until the big night, so she hoped the prince and his retinue would get themselves ready without her aid. If she came back too often, then Verstael or Ardyn would definitely suspect something. 

Nevertheless, there was one advantage she had that they did not know about.

Aranea, as a mercenary, had many, _many_ acquaintances spread all across Gralea. They would be able to keep a close eye on the girls, even if the Chancellor wanted to intervene. She doubted he’d actually go so far seeing as he wouldn’t have the time due to his job,. However, he was quite the snake—if that wasn’t obvious by now.

Her side of things had been set in motion. It was a shaky, unstable plan, built on the most reckless of ideas, but what else did they have to work with?


	18. Promises Are Made to be Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The commodore makes sure everything is set up for their planned escape. Noctis has to tell his friends what they're about to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: changed the chapter name, thus the next one will have this one's original title bc i only now just thought of something better.

**** Thursday couldn’t come soon enough. And yet, when the day finally rolled around, Noctis had never felt so nervous in his life.

He still hadn’t told his friends. He didn’t want to. They kept close to him, especially Prompto, upon knowing what he had gone through. In small bits and pieces, Noctis had fed the other two information as well. It took longer for Gladio to catch on, though when he did, the anger he had been harbouring slowly filtered into a blind rage. A rage directed at the Chancellor. Noctis was grateful, but their pitying glances began to grow on his nerves.

Of course, he had continued to leave out the more gruesome details. He would tell them that another time. All they knew was that Ardyn was sexually abusing him, and that was more than enough. Really, he had only told Ignis and Gladio out of obligation since he’d already informed Prompto and Aranea. As his friends, he felt they deserved to know seeing as that was the entire reason he had attempted to escape the first time. Now, he was escaping for _all_ of them. Luna and Iris included. Noctis clenched his fist in determination. 

For the duration of his lessons, he kept slipping his hand into his pocket to feel the whistle. It was smooth and cold in his fingers and did a good job of calming him down.

It had been a mistake. Noctis jumped out of his skin when the teacher slammed a cane down on his desk.

“And what do you have there, Your Highness?” he spat.

Everyone’s eyes turned on him. _Fuck,_ Noctis thought. He wished he’d left it in his room, but he was too paranoid that it would be found in a contraband check. He could see Prompto looking at him from the front of the room with a worried cast over his eyes.

“Nothing, sir.”

The teacher didn’t seem convinced. He offered his hand, palm flat. “Hand it over.”

Noctis didn’t budge. The teacher, growing increasingly annoyed, called for the guard posted at the door. They were going to frisk him.

In a panic, Noctis pulled the whistle out and shoved it between the hard seat of his chair and where the leg was bolted to it. It lodged in awkwardly on its side, and it would be noticeable if one was looking for it. He hoped it was enough. He held his breath as the guard yanked him from his chair and stood him up in front of everyone. His hands patted down his sides, making sure not to miss a spot as they groped just about everywhere. Noctis had to hold back a squeak as the guard even slipped his fingers down the rim of his trousers to feel the inside of his pockets. How humiliating.

When the guard could not find anything, he was pushed back down. The teacher rolled his eyes and returned to his front desk. 

“Next time you want to fiddle with your trousers, I suggest you do it in privacy.”

The class giggled. Noctis flushed bright red and lowered his gaze.

When history ended, Noctis retrieved the whistle and took extra care to push it as deep into his pocket as possible. He did not touch it again.

“You weren’t, uh, y’know…” Prompto started, scratching his head awkwardly. Noctis gave him a light thump on the arm.

“Get off. You know I wasn’t! My leg itched, that’s all.”

The blond laughed. “Yeah, I knew. Just checking.”

He had been fairly cautious with him as of late. He seemed to ease up after their conversation, although he spent his time agreeing with everything Noctis said so he wouldn’t upset him. Not out of fear, but out of pity for his situation. While Noctis knew why, he found it pretty annoying.

“I’m not made of glass, Prom,” he finally said. They arrived at the cafeteria for lunch, joining the queue quickly before the crowds came. “You don’t have to treat me all nice. I’ll be fine, really.”

Prompto was taken aback. He raised his hands in defense, waving them as he stumbled over his words. 

“Huh? Oh! Sorry, I don’t mean to come across like that! Guess I worry a lot. Things have been rough for you.”

“And for you, too. Take care of yourself sometimes.”

It was said as a friendly suggestion. Prompto returned the smile Noctis gave him. As Ignis and Gladio had their politics lesson elsewhere, they would not be able to join them for the free hour. Hopefully, it would be the last lunch they would have to have at Vis Legis. When the two boys finished and headed outside, Noctis felt a surge of excitement when he saw that the zu was present.

The beast was lurking near the fence, consuming its meal of raw meat. 

“Hey, Prompto, I wanna show you something,” said Noctis.

He lead him to the fence. Prompto grew visibly nervous as they approached the zu. While it was swallowing the last of its food, disturbing such a creature as it was eating was a death sentence. He shook in fear as Noctis wandered right up to the mesh, digging his fingers between the wire.

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” Prompto hissed.

“It's all good,” Noctis replied, throwing him a cool glance over his shoulder. He turned his head back to the zu and gave a quick whistle with his fingers. “Hey, Serus!”

The zu cocked its head. It noticed Noctis almost immediately. While it let out a low warble, it remained where it was.

“Serus?” Prompto repeated. “What, you gave it a name?!”

“He’s chill. I mean, I don’t know if it’s a he or a she, but Serus is a cool name. All I could think of, really. You’d prefer it if I named him ‘Feathers’?”

Prompto didn’t seem to find his joke funny. He hung back, absolutely terrified that Noctis was bold enough to whistle at the zu and name it like it was a pet.  _ That _ was a hulking monster! Not to mention, it was the monster that had chased them in that forest relentlessly, stabbing its beak next to them in an attempt to  _ kill  _ them. He didn’t know what had caused Noctis to forget such an event, though Prompto remembered the enormous bird pinning him down with its talents  _ very _ clearly. It had only been pried off when armoured guards had blown their whistles. While Noctis cooed and clicked his tongue at the beast, Prompto continued to press himself against the wall.

If Noctis wanted to pretend it was a cuddly dog, then let him, but  _ he _ wasn’t going to.

Serus—the zu—had clambered forwards to allow Noctis to pet it. Actually  _ pet  _ it. It was so large it had to lower its head right down to the ground, but Noctis found a way to stick his hand through the fence and rub its feathers. The zu made crooning noises as if it were purring. Prompto couldn’t believe his eyes. 

“You see? Totally chill. He’s docile once you get to know him.”

Noctis hadn’t told anyone that he’d paid regular visits to Serus until now. It was a necessity, seeing as he planned to ride him far away from here. To his luck and delight, Serus was warming up to him. He now came straight to him if he made enough noise. Zus were truly marvelous creatures. Noctis never had any idea just how smart they were. That was one of the few gifts that Vis Legis offered him besides his friends, and he was grateful. Though he supposed Serus was included in that category now.

He did not inform Prompto of his plan to use him, however. The blond would have a heart attack. Noctis understood, yet he couldn’t afford to have him backing out now. He was going about this in such a sneaky way, though he felt like he didn’t have much of a choice.

Everything  _ had _ to go to plan.

* * *

 

Dinner came by slowly, and when Noctis was faced with his other two friends, he knew this was the time to tell them. They had to know what they were going to do tonight. 

Obviously, he couldn’t tell them  _ now _ . Gladio would probably yell in surprise, and Ignis would drop his fork to the floor. So, Noctis watched them eat in silence. He didn’t have much of an appetite, taking his time in cutting his food into tiny pieces and moving them around on his plate, but he realised he should probably eat. They had a long night ahead of them. He forced the mashed up meat in, thanking the fact it wasn’t entirely vegetables today.

He dreaded the moment they finished. Unfortunately, it came upon them, and Noctis had to look them in the eye. He could see Aranea lingering in the doorway again. The commodore nodded discreetly. She wanted to meet with them.

“Guys?” Noctis began cautiously. “Can we meet outside?”

“What’s up?” said Gladio.

Ignis raised a brow as he cleared their cutlery away, stacking the plates on top of each other neatly. “Is something the matter?”

“I mean, sort of? Just come out. I’ll explain there.”

His friends grumbled behind him, although Noctis did not answer their questions until they were safely out of range of the room. Aranea slid around the corner to the nearby exit. The sky was a dark blue, autumn in its early stages. The air was crisp, relieving them of the stagnant oxygen from the cafeteria. Noctis took a deep breath as Aranea, fully armoured, turned to them.

“You all ready?” she asked. Her emerald eyes fell over each one, lastly on Noctis himself. He faltered under her gaze.

“I need to tell you all something.”

Aranea’s grit her teeth angrily. “You haven’t told them?!”

“Told us what?” pushed Gladio. “Noct, what’s going on?”

“I’m busting you out,” said Aranea. She continued even though the three turned to her in shock. “Don’t look so surprised. Princey here was supposed to tell you ahead of time. You guys are getting in the back of a delivery truck in an hour. You up for it?”

Ignis spoke next. “Why didn’t you tell us? When did you stage this?”

Fuck. Not telling them had been a mistake. With everyone’s gaze set on him, Noctis shrank back. He’d messed up. He refused to make eye contact and instead scuffed the ground with his foot. He studied the grass intensely. Each blade was highlighted in extreme detail the longer he went without saying anything. When he couldn’t take their glaring any longer, he opened his mouth.

“She can help us. I didn’t say because—because I thought you’d back out. I want you guys to come with us. This is our chance to leave and never have to set foot in Niflheim again. Aranea’s a commodore; she’s got it all under control.”

“Oh, because last time went so well!” Gladio snarled, teeth bared. “I told you, Noct. They have my sister. I’m not letting Ardyn hurt her!”

“Iris Amicitia.”

Gladio turned to her sharply. “You know her name?”

Aranea nodded, idly examining her gauntlets. “I know where she is. I have contacts set there. They won’t let anything happen to her, you missing or not.”

“What, you think these ‘contacts’ can stop the godsdamned  _ Chancellor _ of Niflheim? You’re in over your head. Sorry, but I’ll pass. You go, if you want, but I’m not risking Iris’ wellbeing. It’s been fun.”

Noctis grabbed his arm. Gladio tried to shake him off, though his grip tightened on the sleeve. “We’ll rescue her, Gladio. I promise. We’ll get her out as soon as  _ we  _ get out.”

The older boy paused. Noctis could see the gears turning in his head, processing the information given to him. He knew how much his sister meant to him. Yet, at the promise of rescuing her, saving her from the clutches of the empire, it was enough to look back at Aranea.

“Can we do that?”

The commodore nodded. “Of course. In my men’s care, she’ll be completely fine until we reach her. She’s in safe hands.”

Prompto, who had been quiet up until now, cut in. “I mean, that’s dandy and all, but how are we going to escape in a truck? They’ll notice we’re missing before curfew!”

“My subordinate, Wedge, is arriving at around seven to deliver weapons. You four are to get in the back. He knows the plan. That’s all you have to do until I meet you outside of the base, and you get into my car to throw them off course. I wouldn’t suggest this if I was confident about pulling this off. I’m more powerful than the Chancellor thinks. Even  _ he _ won’t be able to track us.”

The group fell into silence. Aranea slid in more details about the plan she and Noctis had conjured several days ago, adding comments when they didn’t seem convinced. As time ticked on, she grew anxious, clenching and unclenching her hands into fists. Noctis understood her worry. They didn’t have much time to spare. This was why leaving it this long had been a massive error. He wasn’t surprised his friends were confused and probably pissed, but he had just been so scared. He wanted them _with_ him. He wanted them all together. Them, Aranea, Iris, Luna, his father. It broke his heart to think about leaving someone behind.

He had to tell them that. Their expressions softened as Noctis looked down. “I want us all to leave here as a group. You guys have suffered long enough. I mean, I’m supposed to be the king of Lucis one day, so how am I meant to live up to that expectation when I can’t even save my friends?”

Ignis placed a hand on his shoulder when he shivered—partially due to the cold air, though mostly because of apprehension. 

“And is this plan of yours entirely secure, Commodore?”

Aranea tightened her jaw. “Without a doubt.”

“Then I’m with you,” Ignis said gently. Noctis clutched his hand.

“...Me too,” said Prompto. He was quiet, but he offered them a smile. It was then Gladio’s turn to sigh heavily, yet he eventualy folded his arms and surrendered.

“Same here. Guess I can’t argue with a future king, huh?”

Noctis’ grin was shaky. “Thank you. All of you—we’re going to make it out this time. You have my word.”

Aranea clearing her throat snapped them out of their little bonding moment. 

Right, right, they had to prepare. She gave them the meeting location, which was the car park near the laboratory they had their lessons in. They knew where it was. They would return to the cafeteria for the remaining half hour, and then meet this Wedge outside. Aranea said she would take care of whatever patrols that would interrupt them.

With that, they separated.

* * *

 

Aranea was beyond tense. She just wanted to get out of here, though she had to get rid of whatever guards were lurking at this hour. She didn’t have much time.

Most had retreated to their common room, and the others she had managed to convince to join them with a bat of her eyelashes and a soft smile.

“Why don’t you go and relax? I’ll have someone else to fill in for your shift.”

The guards had not resisted. Being the sexually frustrated males that they were, they melted under her touch and raced to the common room. Hoping to see more of her later, but much to their dismay, they would never see her again. She sneered at the thought. Once the hallways had been cleared with empty promises of shift replacements, Aranea had to make one last stop. There was only one person that could ruin this besides from the Chancellor himself.

It was Verstael’s laboratory, after all. Making a beeline for the staff lounge on the upper floor, Aranea had to make sure that he would not end up discovering their plan. Sure, she could easily knock him out and shove him in a cupboard, but then she would have to deal with hiding any blood and what not. They didn’t have that kind of time.

Sure enough, she found him as expected, sitting on a sofa and reading. An almost empty glass of red wine sat before him. Judging from the bottle, he seemed to have gone through one already. She sat next to him primly, smiling with innocence as he peered at her.

“Highwind.”

“Chief.”

An awkward pause settled between their words. Verstael continued to look at her, eyes watching carefully. He was still in his military uniform, though had unbuckled the metal collar adorning his neck and shoulders. His gloves along with their decorative knives had also disappeared and were resting on the seat next to him. He didn’t seem to be up for conversation seeing as he just went back to whatever report he was studying, and Aranea eyed the wine glass. She could use that if things went from bad to worse, but if Verstael was going to remain here, then there was no problem.

“Long day at work?” Aranea said, nodding to the wine.

The Chief grunted in acknowledgement. “I suppose.”

“Planning on staying here for a while? I thought we could catch up.”

“On what?”

Aranea grimaced at her poor choice of words. She turned her gaze elsewhere, trailing off into a hum of thought. Verstael’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. He was so much different to deal with than the other guards, so Aranea jumped when he snapped the report file shut.

"I'll be going back to the laboratory," Verstael suddenly announced, getting to his feet.

Aranea shot up. If he went around the usual route, he would notice the van parked nearby for sure. There was also the large possibility that he'd end up seeing Wedge waiting for the boys. It was a risk she couldn't take, so Aranea masked her expression of worry with one of relaxation.

"Why the rush?" she purred, snatching Verstael's wrist before he could get too far. He turned, stunned, as she snaked her hand to link arms with him. "Why not stay for a few more minutes?"

"I'd rather not," Verstael said gruffly. He moved to shake her off, yet Aranea tightened her grip.

"Don't be such a workaholic. Have another glass of wine."

Once she had shoved Verstael back onto the sofa, she retrieved the wine and began to refill his glass. Aranea held her breath as she did so, praying to the gods that her hands would stop trembling. She'd never acted this way before, and he was bound to say something. However, Verstael remained quiet as she pushed the glass back into his hands. He stared at it.

"You're not tipsy, are you?"

"Not at all. I just think you need to relax more."

In all honesty, Aranea felt sick to her stomach. The last thing she had wanted to do was flirt with  _ Verstael _ (the fact that it was an act didn't help), but it was the only thing her panicked mind could think of. If she demanded he'd stay, then of course he wouldn't. He was a man who did not like to take orders. Nonetheless, he watched her with a curious eye, studying her every move as she lingered her hand on his for a moment longer than necessary. 

He noticed.

Then, he chuckled. "Then I'll blame you if my work isn't done by tomorrow."

_ That _ was an unexpected reaction. Aranea had to force another laugh lest she frown in confusion. She hadn't anticipated the scientist to go along with her actions so readily.

Making small talk for the next ten minutes, Aranea jiggled her leg anxiously. She needed to be out  _ there,  _ though she couldn't leave Verstael lest he find out what they were up to. She would have to sit here until she got him drunk enough. Knowing him, that would be difficult. He did not like to drink excessively—having seen him nurse a single drink well into the evenings of parties and official events they had attended.

The worst part was having to sip wine herself so that the whole ordeal didn't appear suspicious. Aranea could not afford to get drunk. Not tonight.

She leapt at the bottle when he finally finished his third glass. "Here, have another."

"You're being awfully accommodating," he responded. He turned his head away, unsure of taking Aranea's offer, but she took his fingers and wrapped them around the glass anyway. "Really, Highwind, what's this about?"

"What's the problem in having a little fun on our time off?"

Aranea internally cringed at how  _ bad _ that sounded. Verstael raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he slowly drank from his refilled cup. Please, gods,  _ hurry the fuck up. _

When he had finished that, Aranea had only gotten through half of hers. She cursed the fact he was male. Damn men and their alcohol tolerance. If she had been on her fourth glass, she would be rolling on the floor.

"I think," Verstael finally slurred, attempting to set his glass down, "I've had enough."

Okay, good, he was getting there. Aranea grabbed his arm again when he tried to get up.

"Go on, just one more," she pleaded, hooding her eyes and pursing her lips. 

Verstael's gaze wandered from his glass to her, and then down to the floor in thought. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Aranea quickly poured his fifth glass and then swung a leg over his, pinning him to the sofa. He stared at her in astonishment. Aranea ignored him as she then handed him the glass, hands on his shoulders. This was  _ unbearable. _ It was taking every fiber of her being not to throw up on his lap from the sheer embarrassment of it all. Sure, they were close in age, except Verstael was...  _ Verstael _ . Deranged lunatics weren't her type.

He reluctantly took it. He was drinking far more slowly now, causing Aranea to begin twitching. Just swallow the damn stuff already!

Halfway through, Verstael began to slur again. Not horrendously, but he was definitely on his way. "Is this some special occasion?"

"Only if you want it to be."

_ Gag. _

Verstael laughed, deep and grating. He then shifted around, sliding his glass down and removing her hands from his shoulders. "In all seriousness, I really... should be going now."

Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck! _ He couldn't leave! He wasn't drunk enough!

_ Astrals, forgive me for this, _ Aranea thought as she grabbed his face. Verstael made a muffled sound of surprise as she kissed him hastily. 

Anything, _ anything _ to keep him distracted. 

Thankfully, it worked, his tipsy stupor causing him to not react as sharply as he would have otherwise. If he were sober he would have been furious, but that was the miraculous effect of alcohol. Aranea scooted away, desperate for the space in between them as she returned his unfinished glass to him. This time he did not reject it.

By then, the bottle was almost empty. They were lucky it was red wine. Not too much later, Aranea smirked as a drunk Verstael slurred through his words, trying to figure out what he was going to do in the first place, but miserably failing. Of course, he recalled he had wanted to go somewhere, though the alcohol had dulled his senses enough that he merely laid back—making things easy.

"Why don't you stay here for a bit? Best sober up before you begin walking around at this time of night," Aranea suggested.

Verstael nodded. "Yes. I think... that is probably wise."

Good thing alcohol made him drowsy. Aranea poured the rest of the bottle into his glass to leave with him as she stood up.

"I'm going to get more wine. Wait here for me."

"Of course," Verstael muttered.

Aranea shuddered once she slipped out of the door. Gods, never again. As the hallways remained clear, she slipped out of the building and back to their arranged rendezvous point. She had instructed Wedge to leave as soon as he were able, so all she had to do now was get out of the Vis Legis base and back to her car.

* * *

 

“Is this the place?”

The boys had sneaked out of the cafeteria at five minutes to seven. No patrols lingered, so getting out into the courtyard was easy enough. It had turned much darker now. The stars weren’t visible, but the sun had completely set and black clouds streaked the sky. The perfect atmosphere. They were thankful it was not windy like it had been last time.

“Pretty sure,” said Noctis, answering Gladio’s question.

As planned, they arrived at the car park near the laboratories. It was empty save for some cars at the end, although there was no truck in sight yet. They huddled near the wall, trying to keep out of the lantern light as much as possible.

“What if this guy doesn’t show up?” Prompto whispered lowly.

They hadn’t prepared for that. Noctis swallowed, hoping that Aranea really did have things under control like they said. If not, then he was going to look pretty damn foolish. Gladio would never speak to him again if they fucked up a second time.

In the midst of their muttering, a small truck pulled up. They hid at first, not knowing what Wedge was supposed to appear like. Noctis wished he’d asked Aranea when he had the chance. He grinded his teeth, hoping she was alright. 

The truck stopped. The man driving was wearing a long black coat, and he got out with a heavy thud to the ground. He looked around. Was this him?

“Uh, Wedge?” Noctis decided to say.

He turned to them. “You must be the boys I’m escorting out of here.”

His voice was very quiet. When Noctis nodded, he gestured for his friends to follow him out into the dim light. Wedge was quite a tall man, and over his head he wore a dark grey hood. His coat collar was raised so high that it was difficult to hear him speak seeing as it muffled him.

He nodded and gestured to the truck. “There are bolt cutters in the back. Grab them and get those bracelets off.”

Prompto tilted his head. “Huh? Why?” 

“You want them to just track you down after all this effort to escape?”

Oh, yeah. Of course there were tracking devices. Gladio did the honour of retrieving the tool Wedge had instructed them to get, and with several swift cuts, snapped the dreaded bracelets in half. Noctis rubbed his wrist with his right hand. He hadn’t felt bare skin there for months. He breathed a sigh of relief. They threw the offending bracelets into the bushes after crushing them underneath their feet for good measure.

Before they could get in, however, Noctis caught sight of a flash of silver.

It ended up being a head of silver hair, and he only knew one person with such hair. His throat clenched in horror as he made out the tall frame of Ravus leaning against the nearby wall.

“Ravus!” he cried out.

Everyone’s heads snapped to the side. Ravus hadn’t moved, just watching them with his arms folded.

“Aw, fuck, come  _ on, _ ” cursed Gladio. “Want me to knock him out?”

“Relax,” Ravus said with a scoff and an eyeroll. “I’m not here to stop your getaway.”

Wedge looked between them. “Friend of yours?”

“Not exactly,” said Ignis.

“However, you should learn to keep your voices down. I easily overheard your little plan, and don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking off to talk to the commodore.”

Noctis got into a defensive stance. “What do you want, then?”

Ravus’ eyes softened, the creases around them disappearing. He allowed his arms to drop. “Are you going to help my sister?”

Sometimes Noctis forgot he and Luna were related. They were so _ different, _ like opposite sides of a coin. Sure, one could see the familiarities in their facial structure and hair, but if it weren’t for that, Noctis wouldn’t believe it. He let himself drop his guard as he looked Ravus up and down.

“I mean, of course. Luna’s my friend.”

“Then I won’t stop you.”

He had turned and left before any of them could respond. Noctis stared at the empty space Ravus had been standing, awestruck. What, he’d come all his way to tell them that, only to leave? There was sadness in his eyes. If he had stayed a little longer, then Noctis had half the mind to invite him along for the ride. Okay, sure, he’d been a dick, but he was as much of a victim as they were. Verstael had locked him in the water cell for an entire  _ week. _ Noctis had also seen the scars Ardyn had inflicted on him in the showers. Really, he felt sorry for him.

Wedge cleared his throat to snap him out of his thoughts. “Not sure what that was about, but you’d better get in. We haven’t got much time.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” said Noctis.

Gladio held up a hand. “Whoa, wait, we’re just gonna let him go? What if he rats us out?”

“I don’t think he will,” replied the prince.

While Gladio griped, he didn’t chase Ravus down. Wedge directed them to the storage space in the van. It was small, yet there was enough room for them to squeeze themselves in behind the boxes in the back. They were told not to move from their spots until Wedge gave them the instruction to. There was a checkpoint at the gates, and even someone as recognised as he would have to have his vehicle checked.

Prompto ended up folded up next to Noctis, a sack over them to hide their heads. Ignis was slender enough to manage to hide low to the floor, though poor Gladio was beyond uncomfortable. He’d had to drag several boxes around himself so that he wouldn’t be visible. They had each grabbed the handguns left over. There were rifles that Prompto eyed greedily, but they would have to wait until they were out of here to use them.

As the truck started up, Noctis squeezed his eyes shut.

This was it. This would be their final escape attempt, whether it was successful or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is so close to being done i can almost T A S T E IT
> 
> and hear me out.... young vers and aranea look lowkey good together dont @ me


	19. Everyone Loves A Villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During their second escape attempt, Noctis encounters the one man he truly loathes.

****Ardyn had purposefully kept his visits to the Lucian prince short and far inbetween. It was a tactic often used to inspire attachment. He’d never had the chance to act it out himself, so it was more of an experiment than anything else. He’d get Verstael to report once a week, and that was about it.

So it was needless to say he was stunned when encountering the Chief asleep in the staff lounge. 

Well, he said _asleep_ , but a drunken daze was perhaps a better description.

He was slumped over the sofa, head half propped up and usually perfect hair disheveled. Ardyn looked over to the table. A bottle of red wine sat, drained to the last drop. Two empty glasses were placed nearby. Frowning, the Chancellor studied the scene for a moment. Whoever had been here last had long disappeared. The clock read eight. If he had arrived sooner, then he might have been able to detect whatever traces had been left behind. He had no other option besides to rouse the slumbering Chief to answer his questions.

Verstael blinked glassy blue eyes framed by freckles when Ardyn gave him a nudge.

“Get up, you fool.”

When he hardly moved, Ardyn sighed gruffly. He grabbed Verstael by the collar and hoisted him up. While still pretty smashed, this time he managed to open his eyes fully to see Ardyn glowering at him. He didn’t respond right away.

“What happened? Why are you drunk?” Ardyn snapped.

“I don’t recall…” Verstael groaned. Ardyn set him down only when he began to struggle. He fell back, hand raising to rub at his face. He couldn’t have been asleep that long. The smell of alcohol was fresh. Judging by how it became bitter after a few seconds, Ardyn assumed he had been here no longer than an hour.

Now, finding guards drunk wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence. Ardyn frequently stepped over them on weekends or on late evenings. The suspicion was that Verstael _never_ got drunk. He cared too much about his health. Not because he was a fitness freak, but because he was obsessed with staying alive as long as possible. The Accursed only wished he shared the same interest. Growling, he stood back to give the man some room lest he start slurring again.

“It was an accident,” he finally said. “Highwind barged in.”

“And what has she got to do with this?”

A roll of the wrist, a gesture made too broadly. “How should I know? All she was doing was insisting that I work less.” When Verstael suddenly lurched to his feet, Ardyn raised a brow. “That coy woman! She was trying to _seduce_ me!”

He almost fell over. Ardyn caught him when he stumbled forwards, though his eyes narrowed dangerously. Why would Highwind attempt to do such a thing?

A thought struck him.

Maybe it was irrational or laced with paranoia, but Ardyn had the urge to check his suspicions. He allowed Verstael to fall back to the sofa, not caring whether he fell back asleep again or not, and zipped out of the staff room in a cloud of black smoke. 

Cell 206 was empty. Ardyn, having many years of practice to keep his anger under control, did not go berserk as he so desired. He stood back and inhaled the stagnant air. It was curfew. As he suspected, the clone and the prince were gone. Their aura had long faded from these parts of the buildings. If Ardyn focused, fluttering around the hallways with his subconscious, he could make out wisps of their presence in the deserted cafeteria, but other than that, they had left. They had vanished from the facility entirely.

He struck the alarm on his way out. As guards and MTs lurched in the attempt to grasp the situation, Ardyn stormed into the chilly night air.

These days, he often preferred to leave whatever work he could to his underlings, though there were just some things one had to do themselves. Retrieving the escapees was one of them. The daemons inside his body roared to life like a black tsunami. For a moment, Ardyn grunted in surprise at the sheer force of their fury, yet quickly pushed them down. He could not allow them to get in the way of such a fragile operation.

Noctis’ aura was more prominent towards the west side of the building—Verstael’s laboratory. Ardyn’s heightened daemonic senses could also pick up the fresh scent of petroleum. A vehicle had been here recently. He could safely guess that it belonged to Highwind or one of her associates.

A growl formed at the back of his throat. He should have taken care of her the moment she dared stand up to him. 

In due time, he supposed. As Ardyn regained his smoky form, melting into the shadows cast by the overhead lights, he mused he would deal with that once he’d retrieved the gods’ chosen pet.

* * *

 

“Where do you think we are now?”

“Keep quiet, idiot. We’ve only just started moving.”

Crammed in the back of Wedge’s truck, the four boys held their breath as they moved along slowly. Seeing as they were submerged in darkness, the only things they could focus on was how they shifted in their hiding places. Noctis was beginning to become unbearably hot next to Prompto, the latter’s warm breath on his cheek not helping to cool him down. His heart hammered against his ribcage at a pace he was sure was dangerous. He just wanted the fuck out of here, Vis Legis a thousand miles behind him.

During their tense wait, he steadily recorded the truck’s movements. They had made a sharp turn in the parking lot, and several others as they weaved their way out of the many cubed buildings that made up the facility.

They were jerked to a sudden stop at what Noctis presumed were the gates. There was a deep voice that boomed through the thick walls enclosing them.

“Can I see some identification, sir?”

Gods, hopefully Wedge knew what he was doing. After some more shuffling and brief answers to blunt questions, they could hear the guard edge around to the back.

“And what were you delivering?”

“Weapons. You can check if you need to.”

Gladio clenched his teeth so hard Noctis heard them scrape against each other, molars almost fracturing. “The fuck does he think he’s doing? He’s gonna get us exposed!”

Ignis shushed him. They tucked themselves further into the many boxes and cargo. Gladio knew his feet were sticking out, but as a 6’5” man, there was not much he could do. He tensed as Ignis pushed a crate in front of them.

In the end, there was no need. The guard grappled with the handle of the door, although the group heard more talking as the guard stepped back. Was he satisfied with whatever Wedge had told him? Did he have identification, or papers proving ‘legitimate’ business here? From the sounds of it, he had, as Noctis allowed himself to sigh in relief.

“Right. I see you’ve been here before. Carry on, then.”

“Thank gods,” Prompto wheezed breathlessly.

“Hopefully that’s the last of it,” said Gladio.

The truck went on its way after several long moments of silence. It did not stop again. Were they out? Were they finally out of that dreaded hellhole?

“Is that it?” Noctis whispered, the first words he had spoken since climbing aboard.

“I believe so,” said Ignis. “There is one main checkpoint at the entrance, and the roads are clear after that. If we are not stopped by guards or other interferences, we should have a smooth ride to the rendezvous point.”

The rendezvous point was a good half hour away. It was apparently a straight road on the way to the nearest Niflheim base, but that was where the road forked off into another direction. The other way was en route to Gralea, so Aranea had told him. Their last stop before fleeing the country and getting back home. Noctis didn’t have any idea of what to do when—or, rather, if—arrived. What _could_ he do? Rise up against the empire and take back their rightful land? How could he do such a thing when his dad was getting on in age and he was barely an adult? He’d lost out on many valuable lessons in their time away from the citadel. Not that Noctis particularly enjoyed them, or was even _good_ at them, but he swore to whatever god kind enough to listen that he would try his damndest to rule as he should.

If they were truly the benevolent forces they claimed to be, they would at least lend him an ear. 

That said, they hadn’t even secured their position yet. Prompto seemed to read his mind, as the blond shuffled out from his hiding spot to stretch his legs. The others did the same once they assumed the coast to be clear. 

“What are we gonna do after this? I mean, I know we’re not _out_ yet, but…”

“Don’t jinx it,” Gladio snapped. 

“Didn’t know you were superstitious,” Noctis said.

The older man shrugged, rolling a shoulder blade back to loosen his cramped arm. “I’m not. I just don’t wanna get caught again and have all this go to waste. You do know what they’ll do to us if they catch us, right?”

Noctis shook his head.

“Not like they’re gonna kill us.”

Ignis grimaced. His hand moved up to push his glasses up, though he faltered when he realised they had remained broken since their last attempt. Despite squinting at far away signs, he seemed to be managing decently. He instead went to rub his temples. “Well, perhaps not, but capital punishment _is_ legal in Niflheim.”

Knowing them, they were callous about using it.

They stopped after a while longer. They blinked when Wedge opened the back, a streetlight glaring against their eyes. It was an off white, a sign they really were away from Vis Legis, seeing as the lights there were amber. Noctis’ heart skipped a beat.

“We’re here, boys. You can get out now.”

Surrounding them was a large forest. The road cut straight through it, but on either side the trees pierced the sky and stabbed out any gentle starlight. Their branches swayed every few seconds. Thanks to the looming darkness in the distance, it was a scene straight out of a horror movie. For a moment, Noctis imagined a figure waiting for them at the end. He shuddered, pulling his jacket around him tighter.

Prompto shifted his weight to his other leg. “What now?”

“Wait for Lady A to arrive. Then you’ll be hopping in with her.”

It was Noctis’ turn to talk next. “What about the other guy?”

Aranea had two men working with her, right? Noctis recalled speaking of him briefly, that he’d assist Aranea in getting here, though there was no sign of him yet.

“There’s been a change of plan,” said Wedge. When everyone turned to face him, he didn’t stop. “Biggs is making sure Lady A gets out of Vis Legis safely, but then he’s going to do something about all the security cameras on your designated path.”

“So the empire can’t follow us?” said Prompto.

“Precisely.”

At least this plan was much better thought out. Noctis watched as the three dug around in the truck for any other weapons. Prompto got his hands on that rifle he’d wanted from the start, and Ignis managed to find daggers for himself. As there were no swords on board, Gladio and Noctis were stuck with their handguns. They would have to do. Hopefully, they wouldn’t encounter anyone else other than people on their side, yet precautions had to be undertaken.

After all, Noctis had gotten plenty of practice shooting during his time at Vis Legis. He’d already blotted the history and politics lessons from his head, but the training had come in handy.

Waiting for Aranea was more tense than sitting in the truck. Time went on. Gladio had resorted to pacing while Ignis and Prompto perched on the railing next to the road. Wedge leant against the vehicle, and Noctis ended up staring into the distance. That lurking gloom ahead disturbed him. There were lights down there, right? So why was it so dark?

An engine revving snapped him out of it. Whipping around, Noctis initially dove for cover as headlights swept over them, but relaxed when Wedge merely waved. 

A black sports car pulled up just in front of them. It was too dark to see through the windows, though Aranea, safe and sound, stepped out. Noctis wanted to hug her. She’d helped him so much when she didn’t even need to, but had done so regardless. He owed her the world. 

“Everyone alright?” she called out, making her round to check out the truck. 

“There are no issues to report,” Wedge informed her. She nodded.

“Good. No doubt they’ll set off the alarms over there soon, so we’d better get moving. It’s nearly eight.”

Damn. Eight was their curfew hour, wasn’t it? Someone would definitely notice by now. They had to hope that Ardyn was nowhere near the building at this time of night and that only some idiotic guards were deployed. They could deal with some of them, no problem. Especially seeing as Noctis was a magic-user—

 _Magic._ He’d forgotten about it entirely.

Reaching out his fingers to plunge his spiritual arm into the Armiger, Noctis felt around for the very familiar weapon he so often used. _Had_ used, up until this moment. As he clamped his hand around the engine blade, he grinned in satisfaction. Finally.

He felt gazes upon him as the blue sparks flashed. Sword within his grip, he swung it to double check it was real and not something he made up in his excitement to be free. Sure enough, it sliced through the air and shone in the dim lantern light. 

“What the—” Prompto began to yell.

“Got your magic back, huh?” Gladio said with a grin.

Prompto looked between them. “Magic?”

"An ability unique to the line of Lucis," Ignis added quietly.

Right. He probably didn’t know how the Crystal worked. Noctis did his best to explain as quickly as possible seeing as Aranea was trying to get them into her car. He had to put the sword back into the Armiger as well as the handgun, although he was just so happy to have his magic back that he didn’t mind. Whatever they had used at Vis Legis to stop him—a control tower, some crazy Niflheim technology—it didn’t matter now. He was long gone, and no amount of laws or contracts would stop him from fighting.

And, yet, that looming darkness ahead still unnerved him. Noctis knew it was the overwhelming fear pent up for such a night, though it did not prevent the pit in his chest from growing as they approached.

Gladio sat in the front since Aranea’s car was pretty small, while the others crammed in the back. Noctis was smushed against the left window, Prompto in between him and Ignis. Wedge made a U-turn and went back in the opposite direction. It was a tad nerve wracking to be on their own in a car, the outside world visible to stimulate their fears, but Noctis supposed it was better. It sure was faster.

“You sure Gralea should be our first stop?” Gladio piped up. “Like, it’s the capital. Someone’s going to recognise Noct.”

“You’d be surprised,” Noctis replied dryly. “Don’t worry. I know where our apartment is. I’m going to get dad and come straight back. I can’t leave him behind.”

Of course, they were going to retrieve Iris and Luna when they were able, but seeing as Regis was so _close_ —Noctis had to see him. Even for just a moment.

Gladio made a noise of disapproval, yet didn’t argue further. Aranea chewed on her lip as she drove.

“We won’t have any room for him, you know.”

Ignis cleared his throat and turned to Noctis. “Maybe Prompto can sit on your lap.”

The two boys choked on their own spit in a fluster. Aranea stifled a chuckle as Gladio guffawed. 

“Yeah, real funny, specs,” Noctis shot back.

“No way! But we can’t put the King in the trunk!” Prompto protested.

The driver spoke next. “That spot’s reserved for you, shortcake.”

For a moment, they forgot about their situation completely. Noctis savoured it. He was away from the den of horrors where he had experienced some of the worst moments of his life, and he was with his friends. He hadn’t even needed to use the whistle. He clutched onto it as it as it rested in his pocket. Sure, he’d miss Serus, but he’d promised he’d only use it in an emergency once Aranea had talked him out of immediately calling him. He supposed she was right. He hoped the zu could make it out on his own.

He also hoped that he’d never have to see Ardyn again.

Except, knowing his luck and Ardyn’s bizarre powers, a part of Noctis knew that wouldn't be the case. That man knew more than he was letting on, and as the godsdamned Chancellor he was bound to show up besides the Emperor at some point. The thought engulfed whatever happiness Noctis had allowed himself to feel, becoming quickly absorbed in it.

In fact, he was so absorbed that he failed to notice something glinting in front of them.

“Watch out!”

Out of nowhere, Prompto yelped. A bullet suddenly whizzed passed the window. He was quick to scramble against Noctis, legs folding up so that he was further away from Ignis’ side.

Aranea slammed on the breaks, throwing each of them forwards.

“What the hell was that?” Gladio roared. He’d only just managed to throw his hands out to stop himself from headbutting the windshield.

“Someone shot at us?” called out Ignis.

No, no, _not_ now. Despair wrapped itself around Noctis’ heart as he saw specks of light up ahead. Red flickered amongst them, telltale signs of the lasers of rifles. They’d been found.

Stepping out of the car, lance in hand, Aranea faced their oppressors straight on. She had to be confident to do so, as then a whole crowd of MTs flooded the road. They blocked it from all sides. There was no way around them other than straight over the fence or through the dense foliage, and Noctis knew from last time that was a bad idea. 

“Surrender yourselves,” said a robotic voice. Most MTs didn’t speak, so they had to assume it was either a human soldier or something more advanced. Noctis didn’t know which was scarier.

“How did they find us?” he heard Aranea snarl.

A throaty voice rumbled through the darkness. Noctis' beating heart lurched to his throat.

“You can give that credit to me.”

He probably should have seen it coming.

The man always overwhelming Noctis’ head lurked behind them. They spun around to get an eyeful of Ardyn leaning against a street lamp. He observed the back of his nails idly, not even looking their way as if he was sure they wouldn't run as his head was turned. The sheer audacity of his actions dripped from him. Noctis felt his legs liquify from the sheer _terror_ he felt.

They’d come this far, and now _Ardyn_ was here?!

Slowly, the Chancellor moved his gaze to meet them at long last. A sneer formed on his lips once he laid eyes on Noctis.

“I must say, I didn’t think you’d attempt to run away again so soon. What prompted you so, Noct? Was our last encounter too arduous?”

His grin grew even wider at the faces of discomfort that greeted him. Noctis looked away, completely humiliated as his friends cast awkward glances at him. Judging by the worry in their eyes, Ardyn presumed they knew. Not that it mattered to him.

When he saw Aranea angrily clutching her lance, he bit out a sour laugh. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten _you_ , Highwind. Why sacrifice such a promising career to bail out the prince and his retinue?”

“Call it what you want. I don’t work for people like you.”

Noctis could admire her bravery. She was standing up to one of the most powerful men in the country for him.

Ardyn closed his eyes and hummed. “That so? What a disappointment."

"Drop the fucking act," Gladio snarled aggressively. Ardyn opened his eyes to peer at him. "We know what _you're_ like. You and your damn Emperor can rot."

"Did you spare any dirty details?" Ardyn said, more to Noctis than to Gladio. 

The prince swallowed the lump in his neck. "I—"

"You're disgusting."

Everyone turned to the person they least expected to speak. Prompto, trembling like a leaf, was staring Ardyn down with as much determination as he could muster. Even with how scared he was, after what Ardyn had said to him and how his father had treated him, he was joining the others to stand against them in this critical moment. Noctis could have cried on the spot if he hadn't frozen in fear.

"What's this? Besithia's son finally learns to defend himself?" A maniacal chortle. "Your efforts are wasted. I'm sure you'll be easily replaceable with another clone of his—ugh!”

A gunshot rang out. Prompto had raised his handgun, tears in his eyes, and fired directly into Ardyn’s chest.

“Dude!” Gladio shouted, but his cry was drowned out by the horror at seeing Ardyn stumble backwards, only to right himself moments after. His hand crawled up to the wound to dab the pads of his fingers in black blood. 

He didn’t even seem like he was in pain. Ardyn merely flicked the blood off and scowled. “You know, I _like_ these clothes.”

“Run!” Noctis cried as the MTs opened fire. 

Bullets rained down on them faster than they could move. Aranea, thanks to her armour, was able to leap to a safe distance, Prompto in tow as he was closest to her. Ignis and Gladio rolled behind the car. It would be beyond ruined now. There went their fucking ticket out of here. Noctis, drenched in panic, ran blindly into the forest. He could hear the others behind him as well as the onslaught of MTs. He couldn’t fight them all at once. Summoning his sword and hurling it in front of him, he warped as much as he was able.

He couldn’t allow Ardyn to ruin everything. The bastard had taken so much from him already—including such a private part of him. Not that he expected his first time to be all romantic, but he certainly hadn’t wished it to be like _that_. Ardyn had darkened a piece of his soul that day, and he’d be damned if he was going to let him darken any more of it.

The MTs were nothing special. Noctis swept through at least five of them prior to bolting in between the straggly trees. He stepped over their corpses as wires and sparks drifted into the air.

Once he’d killed enough of them, he’d rejoin with his friends. He was too panicked to think clearly right now. All he wanted was to be away from Ardyn.

He almost broke into a sobbing fit when he saw smoke curl in his direction. The purple flecks of miasma gave way for Ardyn’s form to materialise, hole still present in his coat, though his body had otherwise healed.

“This is simply a repeat of the previous instance,” he taunted.

“Get the fuck _away_ from me!”

The Chancellor frowned in displeasure. He stood a distance away from Noctis, eyeing the sword warily. He didn’t seem too concerned about it, yet he was not stupid enough to lodge himself on the end of a blade for no reason. Noctis had otherwise pinned himself against a tree. 

He shook uncontrollably. The beginnings of a panic attack were rising. 

“Why…” he spluttered, mouth struggling to form words. Ardyn hung back, curious. “Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?”

Ardyn snorted. “Foolish boy. What _didn’t_ you do?”

“Explain or I’ll rip your godsdamned heart out right here.”

“Oh, Noct. Such a flirt.”

Despite the jesting, there was an ominous tone in Ardyn’s speech. Noctis had spent enough time around him to be able to pick up on such cues. Neither of them moved, simply facing each other in heated silence. Gunshots and blades swinging could be heard in the distance, but nothing troubling alerted them.

“You wish to know so badly? Fine.” Ardyn straightened himself to his full height. “I do not care to explain the ins and outs to you, but I will tell you this: you are a curse on your family. That blasted line of royals you so lovingly call your ancestors? Liars. Usurpers. All of you!”

His low voice turned to angry shouting in mere seconds. Noctis’ eyes widened at Ardyn’s choice of words. He wasn’t making sense.

“ _Especially_ you. O the gods’ Chosen King, conscripted for who knows _what_ reason. For many years I decided to see how fate would unravel itself, yet when the empire won the war, I had other ideas. I simply _had_ to wonder how the gods reacted to me taking their precious King of Kings, but lo and behold, they haven’t done much to help you! Perhaps you are not so special in their eyes after all. I came to that conclusion not too long ago, although I do have to admit that _ruining_ you was satisfying.”

Noctis grit his teeth. “What the fuck are you talking about?!”

The Chancellor shrugged, shaking his head. “You’ll see in due time, Noct. For now, I will drag you back by your hair if need be.”

As he crept forwards, Noctis fell to his knees. The fear had overcome him. He was confused at Ardyn’s ‘explanation’—frazzled at terms such as ‘chosen’ and ‘King of Kings’, sayings that he only knew from the prophecies of old. Surely Ardyn wasn’t so insane as to recall them as if it was a personal issue!

But when the Royal Arms floated behind him like a pair of glowing wings, Noctis doubted himself.

There was no mistaking the weapons Ardyn wielded. Those belonged to the kings of Lucis. Even Noctis himself hadn’t received their powers, so what was someone like Ardyn doing with them?

When he was mere feet away, Noctis scrambled for any last ditch attempt to escape he could think of. Pulling out the whistle, he blew on it with shaking fingers.

Ardyn eyed him. “A new toy?”

He chuckled as Noctis struggled in his grasp. Hands reaching around to lock him in a bruising grip, Noctis flailed like a trapped animal. He was too dazed to use his sword properly. Not that it would work seeing as a bullet had torn straight through Ardyn and hadn’t fazed him in the slightest. He wasn’t even capable of running away at this point. Kicking and screaming, Noctis was pulled to his feet and wrapped tightly to Ardyn's chest.

All of his efforts had been for nothing. Serus wouldn’t hear from here. They had to be well over ten miles away from Vis Legis. He should have used it earlier if he ever wanted to have a chance.

“No!” he wailed pathetically. He was ignored.

Warm breath tickled his ear, and he shuddered. " _Yes_."

He couldn't go back. He couldn't go back to that fucking cell. Which cell in particular, Noctis included all of them. His usual room, the water cell, and worst of all, the white cell. He'd kill himself if he had to spend another moment in one of them! Hell, that wasn't even mentioning what Ardyn would do to him. Eventually, as the woods thinned out and his energy waned, Noctis ceased his struggles. Ardyn was too powerful.

However, not long after Ardyn had hauled him towards the edge of the road to be thrown into an airship, a screech came from above them.

Noctis thought he was hallucinating. He raised his head to the sky, searching for the beast he had summoned in vain. Had he _imagined_ that?

No, because Ardyn was also looking.

“What on earth…” he muttered to himself as the wind picked up. 

For a second, Noctis thought he would toss him to the remaining MTs, before the screeching became louder.

Ardyn dropped him as his head was nearly taken clean off by a pair of talons. Noctis was hurled to the hard concrete, grunting in pain as his skin was scraped open. 

He could vaguely hear Aranea’s lance pierce metal—a sure sign she had finished off another MT. Prompto’s gun followed not long after. Okay, good, so at least they were alive. Noctis, crumpled on the ground, tried to see where they were. He just hoped Serus wouldn’t attack them as well.

The zu had landed feet away from the busted car. Screaming his demented cries, he tore into any MT unfortunate enough to be within its line of sight. Noctis watched, in both awe and terror, as the beast ripped them into metallic pieces. Some of his teeth broke off, but it did not deter him from finishing off the ones the group had failed to destroy. Ardyn also seemed to recognise him. Why wouldn’t he, when Serus was still wearing his collar? 

“Was this part of your scheme?” the Chancellor growled. Noctis couldn’t tell if it was said with amusement or annoyance. He decided both, judging from the creasing around Ardyn’s golden irises. “Clever, I must admit. I had no idea such a beast could be tamed.”

“You gonna try and fight a zu?”

Ardyn adjusted his collar seeing as his fedora was absent. He laughed again. “Oh, no doubt I could, but seeing as you’ve killed my pilots, I’m afraid I’ll have to depart.

The prince blinked. “What?”

“I am no fool. You want to venture forth into a ruined world so badly? Be my guest. You cannot outrun me forever.”

Serus slowly turned around. Baring his rows of razor sharp teeth, he clambered towards the pair of them, four wings spread in an attempt to intimidate. Ardyn raised an eyebrow at the creature’s display of aggression. Not bothered, he stood its ground as it approached.

“I give you permission to flee for now, Noct, yet heed my warning: you will not get very far in the grand scheme of things. You are entwined with myself more than you know.”

He disappeared.

Noctis watched, jaw to the floor, as Ardyn was consumed by miasma and smog. He didn’t even look as he left. What, he was just going to up and leave like that?!

A trap. A trap, it had to be. Despite that, Noctis got to his feet and raced towards Serus. While the enormous bird warbled in warning, he did not attempt to stop him as he sliced off the tracking device on his foot. Noctis made for the collar next, making sure to rip its remains into pieces as Serus had done with the MTs. 

“Noct, you good?” Prompto said. He stopped dead when he saw Serus' massive frame. "Uh, what the hell?!"

“Everyone, get on.”

“You what?” Aranea protested, a fearful expression on her face as she peered up at the zu. 

Noctis was already warping into the air to get onto the shoulder of Serus’ wing. “Just get on! He won’t hurt you! We need to go, Ardyn’s gotta be planning something!”

Gladio and Ignis had thankfully arrived safe and sound, and were watching him in shock. Serus was huge. There was plenty of room for all five of them and more, and it wasn’t like they could use Aranea’s car now that it had been blown to bits. Noctis dug his hands into Serus’ feathers and pressed his face against him, speaking to both him and the gods.

“Please, Serus. Get us out of here. Please.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” Gladio called out loudly.

"What he said," Prompto cut in. 

A sudden anger overcoming him, Noctis whipped his head back up. “I know, but if you don’t get on, I’ll beat your ass myself. You want to save your sister or not?”

His choice of wording was probably a tad harsh, though it got Gladio to look around, at least. He surveyed the pile of MT parts and Aranea’s car. 

“Where’s Chancellor Izunia?” Ignis said.

“Gone,” replied Noctis. “I don’t know. He just disappeared. We need to leave before he comes back.”

How he’d managed to convince them in the end was beyond him, but Noctis assumed it was his teary eyes and frantic pleading that persuaded them to listen. Aranea was first, and the other three followed suit when more lights flashed in the distance. Realistically, they knew they couldn’t walk, and it wasn’t as if Serus had grown aggressive towards them. Noctis thanked his lucky stars that it obeyed him and seemingly recognised his foes from his allies. However, how he’d managed to hear them was a mystery. Ignis had said zus didn’t have the best hearing, didn’t he? The only explanation was that he had to be flying outside of the Vis Legis perimeters.

Noctis decided not to keep questioning it. Luck—or the gods—had finally listened to him, and he wasn’t going to deny such an offer. He gave Serus a kick with his heels once his friends were clinging on behind him, screaming bloody murder as they took off into the skies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second to last chapter, boys :') i'm gonna try and finish it asap so i can mark this as complete. i busted my ass writing today. i'm excited but also lowkey sad. anyway, eat shit ardyn, leave my baby boy the fuck ALONE (i say as i write this)
> 
> also if you want a good ardyn song, check out villain by wild fire. its a banger.


	20. The Outrun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally free, Noctis visits his father in Gralea.

****The Accursed lingered for a long time, even after the zu had vanished. He couldn’t decide if he was surprised at this outcome or not, but in the end, he merely shook his head.

He knew Noctis was more intelligent than he looked. Definitely naive, though he wasn’t a complete fool. Ardyn suspected there would be another escape attempt despite what he threatened. The Astrals were finicky creatures, and while Ardyn harshly judged their choice of a ‘chosen king’, he finally admitted that Noctis would be a challenge to deal with.

He would have killed him if he had the chance. If only it weren’t for Bahamut’s excessive interference when his hands got too close to Noctis’ neck, or thoughts of torturing to death crept into his mind. He was surprised the god had let him did what he did. Ruining the boy’s innocence was satisfying in itself, just as he had said to him, but it wouldn’t be enough to change their fates. Ardyn huffed. The only reason he had let Noctis go was to see if the idiotic child would try and change it himself. If anyone possibly could, it would be him. Not that Ardyn had high expectations.

The taming of the zu had impressed him. He had noticed that Noctis was hanging around the fence at lunch time, yet hadn’t dreamed he would achieve such a feat. Maybe he was becoming ignorant as the years dragged by. His younger self would never dream of the things he did now.

As for the others, Ardyn didn’t particularly care. Verstael had a million other clones he could get attached to if he so desired. Ignis and Gladiolus were nothing special, and he could easily dispose of Aranea once the chance became available. He had waited two millennia on Angelgard—what was a few more months?

The holding camps would not crumble over such a minor incident. They would continue on and breed more soldiers for Niflheim. Ardyn couldn’t care less for the empire, but it was an excellent tool to destroy Lucis with. The current king was theirs, and Ardyn was planning on his death once he was sure he couldn’t be of any furrher use to them. He didn’t have any other virtues other than patience, after all. As Adagium turned, blinking away the black tears of the Scourge, he headed back for Vis Legis. 

There was much work to be done in time for the Chosen’s inevitable ascension. So let them run. Let them run until the end of time. They would never truly get away.

* * *

 

The ride upon Serus was rough.

Eyelids crusted with frozen crystals, Noctis buried his face within the bird’s feathers in the desperate attempt to warm himself. Behind him, Prompto clung onto his waist, and the other three were pressed together. 

He hadn’t realised how high zus could fly. Ignis informed him they could reach altitudes of at least 5000 feet. They were a couple thousand above the ground right now, and while that made the city in the near distance much easier to see, it was fucking _freezing._ The water leaking from his eyes would freeze over in a matter of seconds. Their uniforms were thin, and Aranea’s armour was not accustomed to such cold climates, so she was faring no better.

“Are we t-there yet?” Prompto said between chattering teeth.

“I think that’s Gralea,” Noctis replied. The capital was glowing brightly.

Gladio made a noise of disdain. “How are we even gonna land without anyone seeing?”

Noctis thought for a moment. The apartment his father was kept locked inside was smack in the middle of the city, although he _did_ recall several nearby parks that could hide their enormous ‘pet’. It would be awkward, but it was possible.

His friends didn’t seem convinced. “You’re sure that’s going to work?” Aranea said.

“We don’t have any other choice,” said Noctis.

He had to get to his father. He had to. Regis was relying on him as the future king of Lucis. Noctis sure didn’t feel like a king, and while it was something he never asked for, he felt obliged to do _something._

Once Gralea’s border edged beneath them, he realised he was going to need Serus to lower. The problem was he didn’t have any idea how to do so.

“Serus!” he cried. The zu rumbled a growl in its gizzard as a response. “We need you to go lower, buddy.”

He didn’t respond. Noctis could almost see Gladio’s eye-roll behind him. Gritting his teeth, he kicked his heels into Serus’ side. When that also did nothing, he patted him on the neck, just out of reach of his secondary pair of wings. 

“C’mon! _Land!_ Land down there!”

“I don't think that's working,” Ignis groaned. 

They were going to have to act fast before they passed over the city’s centre. There were no reigns to tug on, and Noctis very much doubted Serus had had passengers ride him before. Had _anyone_  ridden a zu in history? Admittedly, figuring he was the first to do so was pretty cool, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. They _had_ to get down so they could get Regis.

Noctis fumbled for the whistle in his pocket. His fingers were so cold they were numb, but after a few moments of trying to fish it out, he brought it to his red lips. The reaction was instantaneous. Serus warbled in confusion, hearing the whistle from behind his head instead of the ground, but he instinctively began to drop. Noctis whooped in success. That was a start. Serus was lowering to somewhere outside of the park Noctis wanted him to land in, yet he supposed he could lure him in so he wouldn’t park himself on a main street. He was their only ticket out of here, after all.

Wings beat against the air as they finally neared the ground. Trees hissed against the generated wind and a nearby swingset creaked in protest. Thank gods it was the middle of the night.

The prince hopped off, legs aching from having straddling the bird for so long and ignoring Prompto complaining about his ears popping. Before he could get anywhere, Aranea grabbed him by his collar.

“Kid, you can’t run off in the middle of Gralea! I’m escorting you. Just find your apartment, get your dad and come back. We can’t linger.”

“I know,” Noctis responded. “I won’t be long.”

“What about us?” Prompto whinged.

“You keep an eye on Serus.”

Ignis folded his arms. “And what if he flies off?”

“He won’t! I’ll be ten minutes! Just—I dunno—keep him distracted!”

He was gone before they could argue. Noctis vaguely heard them whistle at Serus and grinned as the zu looked down curiously. He was glad he was tame around them all, otherwise this entire mission would be a disaster. In all honesty, he was simply so happy to be _free_ and away from Ardyn. Nothing could ruin his mood.

Aranea tagged behind him as they kept to the shadows. Noctis knew this area. Only five minutes away from his apartment, he navigated the dark roads and kept out of the street lights’ radius. His apartment blended in with the others but he knew exactly what to search for.

If course, the guards remained, though there was only two instead of the usual four.

His first thought was to kill them.

“Bad idea, prince,” Aranea warned as she crouched beside him. “We don’t have time to hide any bodies. Can’t you get in through a back door or something?”

“There’s the attic window,” Noctis murmured.

“You small enough to squeeze through?”

It was a tiny opening, but Noctis shrugged. He supposed he could warp through if he steaded his hand enough for a careful throw. 

“Go on,” Aranea urged. “I’ll distract the guards. Go see the king, Noctis.”

He nodded. He’d been waiting for this moment for months. He’d missed his father so, _so_ much.

The guards, sleepy Niffs who were clearly bored of standing around all day, lurched when they saw Aranea. Of course they’d be confused. She had no reason to be all the way here, yet Noctis was grateful that they focused their attention entirely on her. He didn’t linger to hear their conversation. He had to get his dad out as quickly as possible. Warp striking to the window ended up being easier than it looked. All of the training he had done in his time at Vis Legis had paid off, and Noctis stealthily opened the hatch and crawled in.

The attic was very dark. It was beyond cramped, the air stale and musty as cobwebs got stuck in his hair. Noctis hurriedly shimmied past them and opened the latch leading down onto the apartment landing. There was an upstairs, which he had been surprised to see upon first moving here, but it was small and the rooms were more like cupboards than actual bedrooms.

Noctis held his breath as he crept down the tiny hallway and into Regis’ room. He didn’t want to startle him, so as he slid himself inside, he flicked on the lamp at the end of the room.

The king was asleep. Noctis felt his face fall as he peered upon his slumbering father, whose hair was grayer than when he had last seen him and had worry lines pressed deep into his face. He did not appear anywhere close to peaceful.

He nudged him when he didn’t stir at the lamp turning on.

“Dad,” Noctis whispered. “Dad, wake up. I’m home.”

Regis brushed his hand away in a half-asleep trance, but when Noctis got closer, he bolted himself back into the headboard.

“What—” he began to scream before Noctis rapidly waved his arms.

“Shh! It’s just me! I got out!”

“N-noctis?!” Regis spluttered. He had fisted one hand in the thin duvet and the other was propping himself up. His face twisted into pain as his bad leg twinged. Noctis immediately knew what it was and went to help him straighten it.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “I came to get you out, Dad.”

It took a while for the king to register that his son was standing in front of him. After Noctis got his leg into a better position, he blew out a sigh and rubbed his eyes.

“How on earth did you get here? You were sent to a Correctional Facility camp. They wouldn’t let me see you.”

The thought saddened him. Noctis peered to the side. “Yeah, I figured. Look, I don’t have a load of time, but I got out with some help. We’ve come to help you out next.”

He explained further once he got Regis up and dressed. His father was even slower these days. It took him at least five minutes to get his leg brace on, and as time pressed forwards, Noctis became anxious. He knew it wasn’t his dad’s fault, although if they didn’t get going soon, then there was a possibility they would get caught and all of this would be for nothing.

They spoke as Regis pulled his shirt on. He asked Noctis what his experience had been like, though he was not surprised when he learnt it was not pleasant. The conversation deepened quickly. Noctis’ words became quieter, holding Regis up with an arm around his shoulder as he weakly described his encounters with the Chancellor of Niflheim. He failed to notice the twitch on the king's face.

Regis cried when he found out Noctis had been raped. He had never seen a grown man cry before—let alone his own father.

“I’m sorry,” Regis sobbed as he covered his face with his hands, “I am so sorry, son. I failed you as a king and a father. I never should have allowed any of this to happen.”

“ _Dad,_ ” Noctis insisted firmly, “it’s not your fault! You didn’t ask for any of this. Niflheim is to blame. Once we get out and go somewhere safe, we’ll get back at them. I promise you.”

“Go _where,_ Noctis? There is nowhere left. Lucis has been overthrown and surely we could not hide there for long anyway.”

“No, listen, I have—”

A loud crash startled the pair from their talk. Noctis rushed to the front window down the hall, Regis limping along behind him. He tore open the curtains to see a massive beak tapping at the glass.

 _Oh my gods,_ Noctis thought. _Fuck._

“Are you kidding me?!”

As he opened the window, Serus’ beak thrusting inside to almost push him down, he heard Aranea shout down from below. 

“Uh, better hurry up, prince!”

The guards were either knocked unconscious or dead—Noctis couldn’t tell. There was no blood, but their arms and legs were bent at awkward angles, so surely the markings of broken bones. Just behind Aranea, Prompto cowered and Ignis and Gladio tried to wrangle Serus away from the apartment walls. Of course, to no avail.

“What in the name of—” Regis mumbled out loud before cutting himself off. Noctis cringed.

“Um, this is Serus.”

“You are telling me you escaped on _that?”_

“Long story, Your Majesty,” Aranea called up.

Regis shook his head. He still believed he was asleep. Noctis was surprised to see how quickly he made his way downstairs with his cane in hand. Well, at least he wasn’t as scared by the zu as the others had been. As they reached the lower floor, Noctis heard him swear _‘Shiva’s ice’_ under his breath. He was taking it all better than he expected, so that was something.

It was evident his friends hadn’t managed to keep Serus in check. Noctis peered up at him as he got outside, his father watching from the doorway.

Ignis immediately dropped to his knees in respect. Gladio followed soon after, surprised at seeing the king in such casual clothes. His royal garbs had been taken after their detainment, so he looked like any other citizen now.

“Okay, Dad, just get on. He’s friendly,” Noctis instructed.

The king glanced up. “I don’t think so, Noctis.”

“Huh?”

“You know the state I’m in. I’m impressed you were able to ride that creature in the first place, but I cannot do such a thing.”

Noctis looked between him and his friends. The others hadn’t said a word, merely watching the scene unfold. Tears pricked the prince’s eyes, just as his father had done earlier. What, he wanted them to abandon him here?

“You know I’m not _leaving_ you.”

“With all due respect to both you and His Majesty,” Aranea cut in, “I think he’s right. It’s freezing up in the sky, not to mention we almost fell off twice. If the king were to die, we would be in massive trouble.”

No, this couldn’t be happening. They’d come all this way to rescue Regis, and now he wanted to be left behind? Dragging a hand through his hair, Noctis bit his lip.

“I assume you helped them escape?” Regis said to Aranea. She nodded. “Then I am eternally grateful. I can only apologise for appearing in a state unbefitting of a king before you all.”

Aranea briefly introduced them, seeing as they were right before a side road that was fairly popular. Ignis and Gladio seemed accustomed to greeting royalty, but Prompto was adorably awkward. Not that Regis minded. Still, Noctis couldn’t believe Aranea was going along with it. She was okay with leaving the king here, undefended and at the mercy of guards that would surely storm this place?

“ _Dad._ You can’t—I’m not going without you!”

He flinched as Regis placed a hand on his shoulder, though did not move away. “You must. I’m getting to an age where travel is too difficult for me. Noctis, you have so much potential. Be the guiding light for your friends.”

 _Fuck,_ this was all so hard. Noctis was forced to wipe his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He knew his dad was right. His leg slowed him down far too much, and he would be a massive weight on them. Regis was only 50, definitely far from being elderly, but his injury and the stress of wielding the Ring had aged him faster than what would have been normal. 

Eventually, he accepted the outcome. 

“...Alright.”

“There are resistance groups out there,” said Aranea. “I’ll get His Majesty to one of them. I told you I have contacts all over the empire, didn’t I?”

They turned to Regis. He mulled over the possibility. 

“Only if you will not endanger yourself in the process of escorting me.”

“I won’t.”

It was settled quickly. It wasn’t the turn of events that Noctis wanted, but it was better than leaving his father here by himself. He would go with Aranea, and she’d kept them safe so far. There was no doubt she could protect Regis just as easily.

He looked up at her with glistening eyes. She'd already seen him cry before. “Promise you’ll guard him with your life.”

Aranea gave him a gentle smile. “You have my word. Now get going, prince. You have a kingdom to help save.”

"We do have an Oracle to rescue," Ignis reminded them.

Regis nodded in approval. "Of course. Lunafreya, Astrals protect her, is far more valuable than I as a lasting ally."

Noctis hadn't forgotten about her. Neither had he forgotten about Iris, as confirmed as he nodded to Gladio. Sure, Luna's status as Oracle was important, but she was still his childhood friend. He would rescue her no matter what.

They only climbed on Serus when Biggs—Aranea’s second underling—arrived. He’d been following her car, so getting to Gralea's centre hadn’t been too difficult for him. Well, that was a ride for Regis sorted. At least he’d be safe and warm inside a car. It was the preferable alternative to riding on a zu with no saddle or protective measures. Noctis took him into an embrace before they departed.

Regis gave his arm a squeeze. “Walk tall, my son.”

It took all of his willpower not to cry again.

Prompto nudged his shoulder as Serus unfolded his wings, Biggs' car already long gone.

“You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah. I’ll manage.”

The closest resistance camp was just off the Lucian border. From Gralea, that would be another few hours of travel, yet it was doable. Gladio was a camping expert, Ignis could cook using any raw ingredients he could find, Prompto was a great shot, and Noctis had access to his magic once more. They were a decent group. Survival was not out of their reach. While it was unfortunate that Aranea was planning to stop halfway across Niflheim to ensure they would not be followed, Noctis had enough hope that they would remain safe. It was all he could wish for.

For now, they had one goal: live on. Noctis clung to that ambition as they returned to the cold night air. They would join up with the Lucian soldiers to take back what was theirs, and they would start again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINISHED *THROWS HAT ON GROUND*
> 
> my god, it's actually done. my first complete multi-chaptered fic. yes, it's been long and depressing, but i'm so grateful to everyone who stuck around for the angst. thank you for all the comments and kudos. i love every single one of you! sorry to anyone who wanted to see luna and iris - i always originally planned to have an open ending, but feel free to imagine your own conclusions. personally, fuck the canon ending. it's MY fanfiction and NOCTIS LIVES.
> 
> i'm going to miss writing this. however, all stories must come to an end, so i'll see you all next time!


End file.
